#if anybody read all of this: thanks for reading + sending you so so so much love + kindness into your life! We for sure all need it đŤśđžâ¨ď¸â¨ď¸
This year's just... yearing.
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Show Me*
Summary: The second part to Teach Me*
Class is in session, and this time, Harry needs a little help exploring his favorite kinks. Like...how to get somebody off underneath a table.
And you're more than happy to lend a helping...hand.
Word Count: 6k
âSoâŚhow did she like it?â
Harry laughs as he slips out of his car. âWow, I think thatâs a new record. Waited a whole thirty seconds to ask me.â
âBite me,â you retort as he makes his way toward where youâre waiting on the sidewalk. âWell?â
He shrugs, hands shoving into his pockets. âDunno. We never got to it.â
âSo, just straight to the fucking, then, huh?â you question. âNo foreplay at all? I mean, heyâŚif thatâs what sheâs intoâŚgreat. But, personally, I think the foreplay is the bestââ
âAll right,â he interjects with a wicked yet amused grin. âThatâs not what I meant. She got called into work before we could.â
âOh.â You offer him a pitiful frown. âSorry, bud.â
âBite me,â he mimics as he brushes past you. âSâfine. Itâll happen when it happens.â
âThatâs the spirit,â you encourage as you fall in-line beside him. âGives you more time to find your nerve.â
âYeah,â he agrees quietly, glancing down at the concrete. âOr more time to practiceâŚother things.â
âOther things?â
âYeah,â he says again, one brow raising as he looks back over. âYou know, likeâŚhow to eat ass.â
Finally catching onto his joke, you groan and reach out to shove him away from you, watching as he stumbles with a laugh. âFucking hilarious.â
âListen, I was actually looking forward to it,â he continues, hand over his heart as if disappointed. âI bet you really know how to eat some ass.â
âHaâŚha.â
âWhat? You do, donât you? Cause ofâŚEric?â
The familiar but dreaded name sends a shiver down your spine as you recoil away and scrunch your nose in horror. âEw.â
He looks proud. âWell? Am IÂ wrong?â
âYes,â you huff before sighing. ââŚno. But he wasnât that great of a teacher, anyhow.â
âNo fucking kidding,â Harry snorts with a smile. âYouâre much better.â
âThank you.â
âOf course,â he beams, reaching out for the door of the restaurant to swing it open. âAfter you.â
âAs it should be,â you tease, winking to hint at the double entendre, and his eyes roll.
You find your large group of friends already gathered around a table near the back of the room, and quickly make your way over.
For the next few minutes, you all exchange pleasantries, catch-up, and tease Harry about his failed attempt at mating.
Heâs a good sport about it, flipping everyone off with a smile before changing the subject.Â
Because, despite the jokes, all of you know that Harry could have anybody he wanted. Maybe his experience in the bedroom is lacking but thatâs only because it was a personal choice that he made. And everybody knows it. As far as charm and seduction go? Harry Styles is a king.
Perhaps even a God.
âŚno, thatâs giving him too much credit.
You shake your head, clearing the thought away as you listen to your friends gossip about the newest celebrity drama and reality TV scandals.
And you try to care. Really, you do.
But your mind keepsâŚdrifting.
To Eric.
God, you could just kill Harry for re-planting that seed in your subconscious and reminding you of the worst mistake youâve ever made.
Because there was a time when Eric was everything to you. When you were closer to him than you were to Harry. When you trusted himâcompletelyâwith your mind, soul, and body.
And of course, he just had to shit all over the self-growth and progress youâd made.
You feel your phone vibrate from its place on your thigh, and you glance down to see Harryâs name flashing across the screen.
Sneaking a curious sideways peek his way, you swipe up to read his text.Â
SoâŚPete Davidson is Kim Kardashianâs stepfather now? Am I hearing that right?
Confused, your brows pull together as you look over at him.
His explanation is to nod at your friends across the table with a smirk, and you laugh.
I donât know, you type. I wasnât listening.
Oh? Why not? This is fascinating stuff.
Idk. Just wasnât.
Harryâs expression seems to fall as he studies you before his fingers are flying across the screen. You were thinking about Eric, werenât you?
âŚnooooooo.
His eyes narrow.
So what if I was?
BeeâŚyou can do better than that. Even in your head.
See, you say that, and yetâŚhere I am.
Because youâre not doing better. You canâŚyou just arenât.
Yeah? And how exactly would I do better?
You catch the way his lips pull back into a Cheshire-like grin as he begins to type.
Well, you kind of already did do better. With me. The other day.
Swallowing a scoff, you type, That was only because I felt bad for you.
Think you felt a lot of things that day, Bee. But bad wasnât one of them.
You toss him a playful glare. Are you ever gonna let that go?
Not likely. After all, you did promise me another lesson.
You donât need another lesson, you just need to stop being so goddamn annoying.
Come on, you canât deprive me now. Not when I know I have so much to learn.
Google it.
Ouch.
Youâll live.
Itâs not living if itâs not with you.
This time, you do groan, and reach over to swat his arm. âStop,â you hiss. âYou really are fucking annoying.â
âLearned from the best,â he retorts, leaning closer to you in an attempt to conceal the conversation. âLearned a lot of things from you, actually.â
âHarry,â you huff again, but youâre smirking. âMy god, you donât really wanna learn how to eat ass do you?â
He shrugs. âI donât know. I guess I donât really know what I wanna learn. Thatâs why I need a teacher. To teach me what I want.â
You know heâs fucking with you. You can see it all over his face and yet, for some reasonâŚyour interest is piqued. âThought that was a one-time deal.â
âIt was,â he agrees. âButâŚthe door to knowledge is never closed.â
He follows this up with a devious chuckle to let you know heâs teasing, and you nudge him again. âSee? Annoying.â
For a moment, you both put the topic to bed and return to the conversation happening across the table.
But again, your mind wanders.
Wanders all the way back to your bedroom and the image of Harryâs curls wound around your knuckles.
Youâd be lying if you said you hadnât thought about that afternoon quite a few times since it happened. After all, youâre only human. And Harry had done a rather excellent job. Sure, youâve had a tad better. But for his first timeâŚit wasnât half bad.
And youâd waited to feel weird about it after the factâŚbut you never did. Which was strange. The two of you returned to your normal routine as if it had never happened.
And you were certainly glad for that. So why is it that now, as the opportunity for a relapse is placed so obviously in your lap, are you not repulsed by it?
Why is it that you havenât immediately shut the idea down? Laughed it off? Why is it that youâreâŚconsidering it?
Again?
You almost want to shudder at the very thought, but as you look over to the chair beside you and take in Harryâs relaxed smile as he listens to your friends talkâŚsomething seems to shift.
You will admit, since your littleâŚexperimentâŚyouâve begun to equate those kinds of memories and feelings with Harry instead of Eric.
And thatâs another thing you wouldnât dare complain about. You like the idea of being able to associate pleasure with someone that makes you feel safe. Secure instead of unhinged.
And perhaps this is a huge mistakeâŚbut suddenly, you canât seem to see the harm?
He gets to learn how to make a woman feel good and you get to erase Eric from your past permanently.
What could possibly be so wrong with that?
Subtly, you clear your throat as you turn your head to him, calling his attention away as he raises a brow.Â
âOkay, soâŚif I were to agree to another lessonâŚâ you begin hesitantly as his eyes grow wide. âIâd need a littleâŚinformation.â
He angles his body toward you as well, murmuring, âYeah? Like what?â
You think for a moment. âI donât knowâŚwhat kinds of kinks do you have?â
âI donât know,â he repeats smugly, nodding his chin at you. âIsnât that what youâre supposed to help me find out?â
You quickly glance across the table to make sure nobody is listening as you lean in and whisper, âWellâŚI donât even know where to start with you. Youâre a virgin, itâs hard.â
âIâm not a virgin,â he corrects with a scoff. âI justâŚhavenât done it a lot since the first time.â
âMhm,â you snort. âDoesnât change the fact that if you donât know what you like, thereâs no way Iâll know.â
He studies you for a second, seeming to think. âWellâŚwhy donât you tell me what you like? Maybe Iâll get some ideas.â
You hesitate. What do you like? âUhâŚokay. I mean, I like pretty much everything, I guess.â
âYeah? Like what? Name something.â
WellâŚshit. âUmâŚI donât know. Have you ever heard ofâŚexhibitionism?â
He runs his tongue over his teeth in thought, brows lifting up with intrigue. âIâm 27, Iâm not dead.â
âHilarious.â
âWhy? Sâthat something youâre into?â
You swallow but force a relaxed and nonchalant demeanor. âKind of, yeah. Fun to play with whatâs mine when anybody could see.â
He almost seems impressed, leaning back as he looks at you. Really looks at you. âYou donât fucking say.â
âOkay, donât make it a whole thing,â you whisper urgently, already swatting at him in warning. âIt was just an idea. We can always think of somethingââ
âShow me.â
You pause. âShow youâŚwhat?â
He nods his chin at you. âShow me how youâd play with whatâs yours when anybody could see.â
Your expression falls. âSeriously?â
âSeriously.â He nods. âIâm a vessel. Show me. Teach me.â
And maybe itâs the glass of wine offering you an extra ounce of courage, or maybe itâs the fact that youâve already done this once before, or maybe itâs the fact that itâs HarryâŚ
But whatever it is, you reach out, and smooth your palm along his upper thigh, just to watch his breath catch. âAre you sure?â you ask softly, careful to keep beneath the suspicion of the group across the table. âBecause I need to know if you canâŚhandle it.â
You feel him tense, his fingers flexing across the tablecloth as he regards you. âIâll handle anything you want me to.â
Your hand drifts a little higher. âAnd youâll sit here? And be a good student?â
He shoots you a coy smile. âThe best.â
A little higher. âAnd you know your safe word?â
ââStop,ââ he answers, teeth tugging on his bottom lip. âDonât think Iâll need it, though.â
âYou might.â
âWonât.â
âMaybe.â
âNo fucking way.â
You slow to a stop, centimeters away from the rather obvious dip in his pants. âDonât say that. Just use it. If you need to.â
His expression softens. âI know, Bee. I will. Promise.â
âGood.â So, with that and a deep breath, you take the plunge, ghosting your touch over his covered cock.Â
And itâs different this time because itâs you touching him. Itâs his body in your hands and this far exceeds your usual high-five.
You arenât sure what you expected. You kind of already know heâs big from the few times you guys have gone swimming together. And heâs accidently brushed up against you before when scooting past you and worn sweatpants that did absolutely nothing to help him hide an erection (another reason why youâre never watching a Margot Robbie movie with him again).Â
But feeling it nowâŚknowing exactly what this man is in possession ofâŚfeels forbidden.
You keep your expression stoic, refusing to give him the satisfaction of your awe as you watch the way his lashes flutter.
âEasy,â you warn in a delicate whisper. âRule number oneâŚmake a sound and I stop.â
His teeth grit as he leans back against his seat. âFine.â
âGood.â You bring your fingers together until you can cup your palm around him, adding just the slightest amount of pressure before glancing back at your friends.
Theyâre laughing about something, you donât really know what, but you smile and nod along as if absolutely enthralled.
And as the seconds pass, you feel Harry grow harder in your hand. Needier. He shifts at least three times a minute, clearly struggling to keep from bucking up into your touch.
Youâre being as easy on him as you can. A few squeezes, a bit of palming, and some light brushing just to tease him.
Heâs gripping onto the edge of the table so tight, youâre surprised itâs not shaking. But heâs restraining himself, as best he can, and you feel oddlyâŚproud.
You maneuver a little closer, head dipping until your lips are close to his ear. To anyone else, it might look like you're merely trying to be heard over the loud music.
But Harry knows better.
"This...is where the fun is," you tell him. "Knowing it would be so easy to have you coming in your pants. Right here, right now. In front of everybody."
You add a bit more pressure and watch the way the veins in his arms begin to strain against his skin. The way the muscles in his jaw constrict and the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows.
âYou feel it, donât you?â you murmur as his fingers begin to scratch down the table, desperate to grab onto something. âFeel what it does to youâŚto be played with. Just like thisâŚexactly like you wanted.â
He sucks in a quiet gasp for air as his head threatens to drop back, little curls falling across his forehead.
Heâs not stopping you. And you know he wonât. Heâll happily let himself go right into his trousers, in front of the whole goddamn resturant. Right here, right now.
But that wasnât apart of the lesson.
So, just when you can feel his resolve begin to crumbleâŚyou stop.
He exhales a long, deep breath, slumping into the chair as if completely drained of all energy, and you almost want to laugh.
âSoâŚwhat did you learn?â you ask softly as you lean back in.
âThat Ericâs a fucking ass,â he replies instantly, shooting you a lazy grin. âAnd that weâre definitely not kids in a tree house anymore.â
âNo kidding,â you agree. âAnything else?â
He mulls this over, eyeing you closely. âThat I think Iâm more of aâŚhands-on learner.â
Your brow raises. âWhat does that mean?â
His answer comes in the form of his touch, hand outstretching for your leg, long fingers brushing across the hem of your dress. âIt meansâŚI need to see for myself.â
He pauses down by your knee in order to allow you the time to understand and either accept him or reject him.Â
But you simply blink, focus falling from his face down to your lap. âAhâŚI suppose that makes sense.â
His lips roll into his mouth. âMhmâŚwhat do you say, Teach?â
Your nose scrunches at the nickname but you smile. âI say practice makes perfect.â
And he wastes no more time in slipping beneath the fabric to travel up your thigh and toward your hips.
Now, youâre the one forced into restraint, a gasp immediately hitching in your throat as he brushes his thumb down the front of your underwear.
It instantly brings you back to the last time, and his touch, while familiar and oddly reassuring, makes your head spin.
You slowly look over at him, taking note of the way heâs so goddamn proud of your reaction, and the way he returns his attention to your friends.
Exactly like you had.
Because this is the lesson after all. The concept of teasing and torture and watching somebody come undone so easily.
The idea of getting caught.Â
You could tell from the moment you reached for him that this was something he was into. But even when he was trying not to thrust up into your hand, it was obvious that his interest lied with you and your pleasure.
With the idea of putting you under this sort of duress.
He really is a sadist.
Good to know.
"How's this for practice?" you hear him murmur as you become vaguely aware of the way he's scooted his chair closer to you.
You open your mouth, lips parted and ready to respond, but you can feel the beginning of a whimper threatening its escape.
So you swallowâthicklyâand nod your head once.
"Good, then?" he asks, and you have to fight the urge to cross your legs over his hand. "Bee...I need you to speak."
But you can't fucking speak. The pressure of his touch has increased, and it feels so...so fucking good. "It's....yeah. Fine. It's fiâ"
Suddenly, you gasp, and thankfully, it's lost beneath the jazz music still loudly playing through the restaurant.
But it's not lost on Harry, and you watch his smug smile expand as his teasing begins to slow. "Uh-uh," he tuts softly. "You know the rules. Make a sound...and I stop."
You exhale the singular word, "Har," and he hums.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. What?"
You have to physically fight the urge to whimper with desperation. Truth be told, heâs hardly even doing anything, but his handsâŚ
Youâd fucked up by sneaking a glance down at the tattooed skin disappearing beneath your dress. Because itâs sinful to feel the cold, metal of his rings brush against your warm thighs. Sinful to know heâs pressing his thumb into you just to feel the way youâve begun to soak the material heâs so effortlessly playing with.Â
HeâŚis sinful.
And then suddenlyâŚhis touch disappears. Retreats from between your legs as your mouth just about drops open.
And you could cry at the loss of contact because it felt so safe and so exciting. Teasing or not, it was so fucking good, and you hate him for making you go without.
But thenâŚyou learn why.
His fingers move to wrap around the edge of your seat, getting a good grip on itâŚbefore he yanks.
Your chair is forced closer to his, squeaking against the floor as he begins to smirk victoriously.
âThere,â he declares quietly before his hand is returning to your lap. âMuch better, donât you think?â
And it is better because now heâs so much closer, and has so much more room, and youâre so fucking close to just throwing in the towel and hurling yourself at him. Friends be damned.
âSpeak, Bee,â he repriminds after a minute of your silence, and instantly, you begin to squirm.
âHar,â you whisper, both begging him for his mercy and for his cruelty.
âWhat?â he replies evenly. âWhat do you need, hm?â
You, you think. âCanâtâŚsâjustâŚâ
âCome on,â he tsks. âThink you can do better than that, canât you?â
But you canât.
âPlease,â you try again, a faint request.Â
âPleaseâŚwhat?â
âHarâŚâ
âUh-uh. Tell me. What?â
Again, you swallow, willing yourself to stay silent. "Harââ
âNo.â
âHarryâ"
"...Harry?"
This time, it's Charlie calling his name, and immediately, you go deathly still as you turn back toward your friends.
However, Harry is calm as he raises a brow. "Yeah?"
For a moment, the three across from you simply stare, rather curiously before Charlie says, "Oh, I was just asking how Tina is?"
You could almost moan with relief.
âSheâs good, yeah,â Harry answers cooly, pointer finger hooking around the edge of the material on your thighs to pull it aside. âYeah, real good. Been working a lot, so I havenât seen her much.â
âAw, thatâs too bad,â Jackie offers with a pout. âIs she nice? Will we like her?â
Harry laughs, head shaking with amusement as if heâs not dragging his thumb down your clit while you swallow a rather desperate whine. âSheâs nice. I donât know if weâll ever make it that far, though.â
Calebâs head tilts. âWhat do you mean?âÂ
He shrugs. âI donât know. Weâve hung out, likeâŚtwice. Sânot really that serious yet.â
And you almost snort, because to youâŚhe seemed pretty serious about her.
But you suppose eating pussy doesnât exactly require an engagement ring, and maybe he just wants a fuck buddy.
âWellâŚshe still needs to pass the approval test,â Jackie argues with a wink. âAnd the fact that she strung you along for two months is not doing her any favors.â
âShe was just making him work for it,â Charlie teases. âAnd he needs to be humbled, so I say good for her.â
âPlease. Look at him,â she snorts. âHeâs too pretty to be this dumb. Okay, he can do better than Tammyââ
âTina,â Harry corrects before slowly easing the tip of his finger in, and your entire body goes rigid.
ââyeah, whatever. The point isâŚyou can do better,â Jackie finishes proudly, shooting a pointed look toward Charlie.
Harry begins to smirk, slowly stealing a glance at you. âYeah. Maybe we can all do better.â
Now curious, Caleb nods at you, and you do your best to control your reactions as he says, âYeah, speaking of whichâŚhave you heard fromâŚhim?â
You shake your head quickly, mentally damning Harry to hell as he pushes in a bit further just to make it harder for you to reply. âUhâŚno. Nope. Not since that night.â
âIâll kill him,â Jackie tells you. âNo, really. I will. Iâll hit him with my car and drag his dead body out to the woods, and watch the bears eat him.â
You breathe out a laugh, but itâs outrageously forced, and Harry can tell. âItâsâŚitâs fine. HeâsâŚyou know, we all move on. Iâm fine.â
âSure,â Harry says with a wicked gleam in his eye. âYeah, you seem fine.â
âOh, I am,â you murmur through a tight-lipped smile. âFucking fantastic.â
âGood,â he hums before you can feel him curl upward. âHope it stays that way.â
Your hands drop to the chair beneath you, and you grip onto the sides for dear life in an attempt to keep from reeling. âThanks for yourâŚconcern.â
âAnytime,â he beams as you feel him slip out. âJust want you toâŚdo and feel the best that you can.â
The wet pad of his finger then returns to your clit as he presses into it just to push it in a teasing circle.
Your eyes just about roll back as you quickly turn your face toward your shoulder and fake a cough. âFuckâŚsorry,â you apologize hoarsely as your friends look on.
âAre you all right?â Jackie asks softly. âSorry, we shouldnât have brought him up. We can change the subject.â
âNo, itâsâŚitâs fine,â you sigh, hoping to sound casual, despite the fact that youâre teetering on the edge of a wail. âReally, heâs justâŚa guy. Just someâŚstupidâŚsadisticâŚevil fuckingâŚguy.â
And while the group across the table snorts their agreement, you see that Harry knows that jab was aimed directly at him.
He winks.
âI, uhâŚI need to go to the bathroom,â you suddenly declare, grabbing onto his wrist to forcefully shove it away before standing to your feet. âBe right back.â
âFeeling all right?â Harry asks innocently as he watches you push your chair in.Â
âJust delightful,â you reply before brushing your hands down the front of your dress. âSeriously, keep eating. I wonât be long.â
You leave the table before Harry can make another quippy remark, quickly making your way for the extravagant restroom in the back of the restaurant.
Honestly, you thought you had a little more self-control. You thought it wouldnât be so easy to get you so on edge, and yet here Harry is, making you clench so hard in your chair, you nearly burst a blood vessel.
You lock the door behind you and make a beeline for the sink. You flip on the cool water and gently trail it down your arms and chest to cool yourself down as you will the ache between your legs to subside.
Itâll be easy to take care of once you get home, but youâre rather impressed with Harryâs commitment toâŚeducation.
And something about looking your friends in the eye as he played with your cunt like a toy was oddly invigorating.
Far more invigorating than it ever had been withâŚEric.
Youâve no sooner smirked at this thought when your phone begins to buzz from its place on the counter.
Glancing down, you arenât surprised to see a text from Harry, but it does make you laugh.
Howâs it going?
Good. Just getting myself off before I come back, you answer.
Yeah? Texting me while you touch yourself? Hot.
Well, itâs not the first time.
A good minute passes before he responds, and you can easily imagine the way his eyes went wide.Â
Seriously?
Seriously. Why, is that weird?
Are you fucking kidding? No, itâsâŚI mean, itâs hot. Very, very hot.
Your brow raises. Yeah?
Kind of rude you never told me, though. Clearly I would have been of great help.
In my defense, I was a littleâŚbusy. Itâs already hard enough to type with one hand.
And even if you arenât exactly touching yourself right nowâŚyou arenât lying about having done it before. Not on purpose, of course. He just happened to text you right in the middle of your alone time and needed an answer ASAP.
SoâŚyouâd answered.
Yeah? Do you need an extra hand? he replies next, and you chuckle under your breath as you lean against the sink.
Why, do you know someone?
Funny.
Thank you, I thought so.
Is that a yes, then?
I think Iâm managing just fine.
Yeah? So youâre pinching your clit nice and tight for me?Â
You feel your breath hitch. This certainly isnât helping. Obviously.
And youâre clenching around your fingers for me? How many you using? One? Two? Maybe three? Know you like to feel stretched.
âFucking hell,â you whisper to yourself as you glance off into the bathroom. Heâs trying to kill you.Â
Canât really clench around anything when I have to keep answering these texts. Go eat your food and leave me to it.
And what kind of student would I be if I did that?
An obedient one.
And does that sound like me?
âNope,â you respond aloud, but type, You have been so far.
Think Iâd be more obedient if I finished what I started.
I meanâŚmaybe if you knew how.
You wait to watch the bubbles roll across your screen, but when they donât come, your heart sinks.
And thenâŚthereâs a knock.
A rather fervent and determined knock that makes you jump as you look toward the door.
âBeeâŚlet me in.âÂ
Shit. âIâŚuh, Iâm a little busy.â
âI know,â comes the deep, sultry reply. âSo, let me in.â
âHarââ
âOpen the goddamn door, Bee, before I break it down.â
Clearing your throat, you put your phone aside and cautiously tiptoe toward the door.
After sliding the lock over, you pull it back just a hair, and peek through the crack. âUh, hi. Sorry, this bathroom is a little occupied at the momentââ
His large hand comes out to press against the wood as he forces it open and steps inside. âAre you okay?â
You blink at him before scrambling to push it closed and relock it. âUhâŚyeah? Why?â
He strides a bit further into the bathroom before turning around to look at you, almost as if suspicious. âHonestly? I kind of thought you came in here to hide from me.â
âWhat? Why?â
âI donât know.â His arms cross over his chest. âI know you didnât actually come in here to fuck yourself, so I thoughtâŚmaybe you just felt uncomfortable.â
âOh, yeah? And how do you know I didnât come in here to do that?â you retort.
He smirks. ââCause you always use both hands. And if you were texting meâŚyou werenât fucking yourself.â
âAnd how do you know I use both hands?â
He shrugs. âYou told me once.â
OhâŚright. âWellâŚmaybe I was multi-tasking.â
âYou werenât,â he rejects immediately. âNo, I think you either came in here to hide from meâŚor because you were upset about what they said. You know, aboutâŚhim.â
An invisible fist snaps closed around your heart as you stare at the man across from you. The devious intentions and teasing from before are long gone as the man youâve known for years, your best friendâŚstands before you.
The concern is evident on his face as you take a step closer. âHarâŚhonestly, Iâm fine. I wasnât hiding from you, and I really donât care about Eric. I came in here to keep myself from coming all over your fucking hand.â
The corner of his mouth twitches with the temptation to smile, but his gaze remains skeptical. âAre you sure?â
âPositive.â You nod, taking another step. âCome on, I think itâs a little late to start questioning me now, donât you?â
He sucks on his teeth. âWellâŚI can never tell with you.â
âI feel like I made my enjoyment quite clear.â
âI thought so, too. Until you made me stop.â
Now, only inches away from him, you come to a halt. âYeah, well, I didnât exactly feel like explaining why I moaned to our friends, you know?â
His thumb rubs across the skin of his arm as he peers down at you. âThought that was the whole point of exhibitionism.â
You shrug, eyes falling across his features. âYeahâŚor maybe I just wanted to keep you to myself.â
His brow cocks up. âYeah?â
âYeah. You knowâŚlike a secret.â
Instantly, he grins, exhaling a laugh at the reminder of the pact you two made when you were younger. âWe are good at secrets.â
âThe best,â you agree giddily before the laughter dies out, and something seems to shift within his expression.
âThen I think itâs only fair we finish the lesson,â he says quietly, leaning a bit closer as you begin to still. âAfter allâŚI still need to show my work.â
Your lashes flutter, the smell of his cologne beginning to overwhelm you. God, why does he always smell so good? âGuessâŚguess thatâs only fair,â you agree faintly, and he seems pleased.
His head dips, nose brushing yours as he works to catch you off guard. âThen tell me what to do, Bee. And Iâll do it.â
It comes out before you can stop it. âKiss me.â
Heâs surprised by this request, going momentarily quiet but you donât miss the way his focus falls to your lips, as if pondering.
âKiss me,â you repeat, fingers itching to latch onto the back of his neck. âAnd this timeâŚdo it right.â
He seems impressed as he fights an arrogant smirk. âRight, huh?â
âYeah.â You straighten up, bringing your mouths a tad closer, but still without contact. âKnow you can. Know you know how to be gentle, donât you?â
And almost as if in retaliation, his hands find your hips, squeezing rather harshly as he begins to back you up toward the wall.
When you collide with it, he grins. âDunno about that.â
âTry,â you whisper, hands dancing up his chest. âTrust me, youâll get a lot more points that way. The right kiss can do everything, and I promiseâŚsheâll love it.â
He considers this for a moment, studying you closely before you feel his palm delicately cup your cheek.Â
He tilts your head back as he moves in, deliberately slow. âEverything, huh?â
You smile, nodding once. âYeah,â you breathe. âEverything.â
He kisses you.
Soft, and careful, and sadistically tame. He kisses around your mouth, peppers kisses to your bottom lip, to your cheek, to the line of your jaw.Â
He keeps his tongue from you, and you almost huff because after everything, you think you at least deserve a taste.
And finally, once youâre moments away from wilting in his hands, he takes that taste for himself.
Your head spins and your mind goes blank and everything makes sense.
Because kissing him is fun, and it makes you want to laugh, and kiss him forever, and never leave this one spot.
And youâre so enchanted by this revelation that you donât notice his hand traveling between your bodies to return to its home between your thighs.
But he slips underneath your dress without a moment's delay, fingers returning to their work of pulling your panties aside to finish what he started. And when you gasp into the kissâŚhe swallows the sound with ease.
âIs that right, hm?â he teases as he slides in. âThat good?â
Your lashes flutter closed as he presses his forehead to yours, and you donât offer a response because he already knows.
His precision just about kills you. In, out, in, curl, twist, pinch, pull. You can feel the drip down your thighs, can hear the sounds heâs making, can taste his desperation in each kiss he gives you.
And when you suddenly whine and squirm in his hold, he smiles. âThere it is, yeah? Right thereâŚsâwhat you needed, isnât it?â
It is. Itâs exactly what youâd needed, and he strokes the spot with fervor and just a touch of wonder.
Itâs cruel and itâs wonderful and it feels so fucking good, and nothing else makes sense to you except him.
Just him and the way youâre about to come undone by his hand for a second time.
You nuzzle your face into his neck, lazily kissing under his ear, and he seems to sigh with contentment as he braces you both against the wall to continue.Â
âCome on, BeeâŚknow itâs gotta hurt, doesnât it?â he coos, but his voice is thick. âKnow it hurts, so give it to me, yeah? Just give it to me. Let me make it better.â
And it overwhelms you, consumes you, controls you. His smell, his touch, his words. The past, the present, him. Just him. Only him. Right now. Everything.
The sound that rips from your throat feels foreign to you. Itâs loud and desperate and eager, and he presses his lips to yours to be a part of it.
It goes for what feels like hours, but time doesnât have a place here. It could have been ten seconds; it could have been ten minutes. You donât know, you donât care.
You justâŚlet it.
And you donât realize the way youâve slumped into his embrace as he holds you up, keeps you steady.
You donât realize heâs speaking to you, murmuring words of encouragement with just a hint of teasing.Â
You donât realize heâs refusing to let go.
But once you do, you realize something else, too:
You donât want him to let go.
"Think we might have a problem," he whispers after a moment, lips following the curve of your shoulder as he offers a few parting kisses.
Your head falls back against the wall and you take a few deep breaths. "Yeah? And what's that?"
"Well...you kind of fucked up," he begins as he moves to the other side of your neck, sucking on the vein just below your ear. "You gave me a taste, showed me what I've been missing."
You can feel yourself smile through the haze as his hands continue to grope at your waist.
"I mean, just knowing..." he continues, nosing under your jaw, "...you've been keeping so much knowledge from me...this whole time."
Your laugh is airy as you reach up to comb through his curls. "Is that right?"
He hums as he nods, the palm of his hand slowly smoothing up your stomach, pushing the hem of your dress along with it. "And now I don't know if I can go without. Feel so fucking insatiable...just thinking about what else you might be hiding from me."
With this, his fingers delicately ghost under the curve of your tit, forcing you to arch into his touch as he smirks.
"And what is it...you want to know?" you manage to reply, voice soft and nearly inaudible.
He pulls back and meets your eye.
"Everything."
Shit.
"Everything?" you murmur, subtly tugging him closer.
"Everything," he repeats. "Anything. All of it. You. Me. Us. Every fucking second, every fucking way."
You know what he's proposing. Know exactly what this means, but you don't know if a friendship would survive.
And you don't know which is more important.
"So...what do you expect me to do?" you ask breathlessly, still squirming beneath his hold.
He smiles. "I expect you...to show me."
"Show you," you repeat, as if in a trance.
"Show me," he whispers, moving back in to lick at your bottom lip. "Teach me. How to be better. How to be right. How take care of you. Wanna give you everything you need."
"Everything," you breathe.
"Everything." His other hand gently comes up to cradle the back of your neck. "Whatever you want, whatever you need. Tell me and I'll give it to you. Promise."
But what do you need?
"Are you sure?" you ask, softly pushing on his chest to garner his attention. "It's not like teaching you to play pool, Har. Exploring kinks is...delicate. Sacred. It's not a game."
"I know," he replies, sobering ever-so-slightly. "That's why it can't be anybody else. It has to be you."
It has to be you.
"Why?" you challenge.
He simply offers you a knowing look. "Why wouldn't it be?"
You chew on the inside of your cheek, looking for a reason to say no. Looking for the strength to know better.
But maybe you don't know better.
Maybe you just know him.
"Teach me," he says again, thumb stroking your jaw as those familiar eyes bleed right through to your heart. "Make me better."
Better.
Everything.
Nothing else makes sense. Nothing else feels right.
Just him.
"Okay," you agree quietly, and his entire face lights up. "For science."
"For science," he repeats, dipping down to press his lips to your cheek in thanks. "But only if you're sure. I'd never want you to agree just because of me. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, I know."
He leans back. Frowns. He's unconvinced. "I mean it, Bee. I'm not asking just because I can. Iâm asking becauseâŚit feels like something we both want. But if it's notâ"
You kiss him again, stealing the rest of his argument. "I know how to say no to you, Harry. Think you should know that by now."
He smiles against your mouth. "Guess so."
For the next minute or so, you don't speak. He simply takes hold of your face with both hands and paints his gratitude across your tongue.
"So...where do you wanna start?" you ask when he finally allows you a second of reprieve.
"You tell me," he reminds you, and you feel yourself smirk.
"All right," you agree before slipping your fingers through the loops on his pants.
His eyes go wide.
Then, you tug.
"Let's start...with everything."
You bet your ass thereâs gonna be a part 3, because now that theyâve opened the doorâŚthereâs no closing it đ and Harryâs got a long list of new kinks to discover! And Iâm strangely excited about it?? This is concerning?? Pray for me???
Next Part:
~ Hurt Me* (Pt. 3)
Previous Part:
~ Teach Me* (Pt. 1)
~ Full Teach Me Masterlist
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
Tags:
@tiaamberxx @harrystylesfan2686
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amateur hour
member â camboy!jun x f reader
genre â smut, f2l, idiots to lovers, fluffy ending
word count â 8.6k
synopsis â the most awkward encounter of your life might just end up being the best thing you and your best friend have ever done together.
warnings â descriptions of female anatomy, masturbation (jun), voyeurism & exhibitionism (watching porn together), jun is a big time simp but in a soft way, please lmk if i missed any!
notes â huge thanks to @onlymingyus and @highvern for reading this for me to make sure i wasn't insane, and thanks to @cheolism and @duhnova for help with the title <3 this is my longest fic in a while and it took so much energy to finish but i hope yall enjoy! please reblog or send an ask and lmk if you enjoyed this! :)
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â
"hello? anybody home?"
jun squeezes his eyes shut, throwing his head back with a stifled moan as he cums all over his hand. his grip on his cock tightens, milking every last drop out across his abs as he fights to keep himself quiet.
fuck, he forgot. forgot he'd told you to come over tonight. forgot he'd promised a movie night to cheer you up after your latest dating disaster. he feels like the worst friend on the planet right now, for so many reasons.
the main reason? the fact that he's just finished cumming at the thought of you⌠and also the fact that he's been streaming the whole thing to thousands of people.
out of breath, he presses a couple keys before slamming his laptop shut. no goodbye to his viewers, no thanking the people who donated. but they're used to his unconventional streams, often barely acknowledging their existence or even not talking at all. not because he cares deeply about staying anonymous, but because he's just so⌠average.
maybe that's why he's so popular: he's just a regular guy jerking off. people like that amateur stuff. no elaborate productions, no fancy camera work, just a guy with a laptop and a really pretty cock (or so he's been told). he could be anyone: your classmate, your neighbor, the cute guy from the library. he might even be your best friend.
"in hereâ changing!" he calls through his closed door, rushing as fast as he can to clean himself up and put clothes on. he's mentally praising himself for remembering to make his bed this morning, and after wiping a suspicious looking stain off his desk and fixing his chair, his room looks halfway decent.
he tosses open his bedroom door to greet you, throwing a smile onto his face. he doesn't want you to feel like you're intrudingâhe loves it when you come over, he wouldn't have given you his house key if he didn't want you toâeven though at this exact moment, you very much are intruding. even though he invited you over in the first place. fuck, he's such an idiot.
when jun hadn't answered any of your texts before you let yourself in his apartment, you'd figured he'd forgotten about tonight. you'd hoped tonight would be an exception, but it's not out of the ordinary for him to be forgetful. any other day you wouldn't have minded, even teased him about it, but not tonight. especially since he invited you over in the first place.
but all of your worries are suddenly pushed to the backseat when he comes out of his room looking⌠well, hot.
like, literally hot. he's sweating, his hair disheveled and his pupils huge as he pushes his shirt sleeves up his arms.
it takes a second for you to take it all inâ obviously he'd forgotten about his promise and had started a workout instead. you can't say you haven't noticed lately how often he's started working out, his biceps bulking up and his chest peeking out through his shirts. you'd wondered when he's been finding the time to go to the gym, his excuse for years being that he's too busy or too lazy to leave the house, but it seems like he's been working out at home too now.
you stand awkwardly in the space between his living room and the door, watching the beads of sweat forming at his hairline. âif now's a bad time, i canâ leaveâŚâ
"no!" he rushes to say, and you pause at his sudden outburst. "no. just... let me take a shower real quick. i'm so sorry, i lost track of time." he runs his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down while you try not to stare.
"sure," you say after a long moment. his eyes pause to travel over your face with an expression you can't read, but maybe you just imagined that because seconds later he's back to his cheery, usual self telling you to make yourself cozy on his bed and start looking for a movie while he's in the shower.
standing under the cold water, he promises to himself that he's going to get everything right tonight, despite the rocky start. he's gonna bring out the snacks and put on the movie and make you happy again. because that's what he always does, and he may not be the most perfect person in the world but he tries to be for you.
he's been there for every new boyfriend you tell him about that he already knows won't end well, and he's been there when it inevitably doesn't end well. he's been there without a single complaint for every drunk saturday night and every hungover sunday morning. and he's not going to complain this time either, no matter his feelings for you and how badly he wishes you would just date him instead. maybe he's a little biased, but he thinks he'd make a great boyfriend.
you sit at the edge of his bed wringing your hands until you hear the shower start to run, finally letting out a deep exhale and starting to relax with a moment to yourself.Â
heâll take his shower, and itâll be like a reset button for the evening; heâll come out nice and clean like nothing ever happened, and youâll snuggle up and watch a funny movie and maybe get a little drunk and forget all your troubles for the weekend. a clean slate, as if you hadnât had to use every ounce of self control youâve got in order to avoid ogling him and the way his sweat drenched shirt clung to his torso.Â
youâll have such a fantastic time with the movie, you wonât even have time to stop and think about the fact that he probably works out shirtless. no, you definitely arenât thinking about how youâve never seen any gym equipment around his house so he must be doing like a crazy amount of pushups or something to get that ripped without any kind of exercise machine. the fact that these are not the kind of thoughts you should be thinking about your best friend is entirely irrelevant.
content with your plan to avoid thinking for the rest of the evening, you stand up from his bed and move to stand at his desk, opening his laptop to find something to watch.
and oh, you find something to watch, alright.
staring back at you on his screen is a porn site, paused on a video of a man laid naked across a worn out looking chair, legs spread wide with his cock tightly in his fist.
oddly enough, your first thought is that the scene looks⌠hot. the top of the video cuts off at the neck, hiding his face from the camera but leaving his prominent adam's apple exposed. itâs very obviously amateur, but even from just the single frame shown, you get the sense that thereâs a certain charm to it. and quite honestly, itâs working for you.
apparently, it works for a lot of other people, too. the video has hundreds of thousands of views, and below it are suggested videos from the same man that boast similar numbers.
jun never struck you as the type of guy to watch solo male videos, but you aren't here to judge his preferences. hell, you've seen way worse yourself. there must be something he likes about it, though, and youâre half tempted to press play on the video to find out if the rest of it is as good as the preview seems to be.
you're about to close the tab and never speak of it again, but something else catches your eye and you pause, finger hovering over the mousepad. something about the guy in the video feels⌠familiar, somehow.
looking closer you see there's a little mole on his tummy, right by his hip, that reminds you of the one jun has. you've seen him without his shirt on enough times to recognize itânot like you've been staring or anything. just something you've noticed.Â
but then your stomach flips, and you realize what's actually familiar about the guy in the video. tied around his wrist is a thin red string, a friendship bracelet you made when you first met him and accidentally tied it too tight so he couldn't take it off that he's worn ever since.
there's no way that's a coincidence.
and then everything else starts to fall into place: the posters in the background of the video. the old desk chair youâve sat in so many times that youâll never be able to see the same way again. too many pieces fitting easily together like a puzzle.
but by the time you've had long enough to process all this information, the shower has stopped and out walks jun wearing nothing but a loose pair of sweatpants. your eyes drag away from the sight of his wet, naked chest and instantly fix on the bracelet tied around his wrist, unable to stop staring at it.
you distantly hear him call your name, and your gaze snaps back up at him with wide, guilty eyes, caught like a deer in headlights.
he opens a drawer and starts tugging a t-shirt on over his head, turning around to look at you. âdid you find something to watcâ oh.â
you follow his gaze towards his open laptop, the video sitting proudly on display in the tab you forgot to close.
you both stare at the paused video for a very long moment, the silence stretching on before all the words that were stuck in your throat suddenly come tumbling out all at once.
âi wasnâtâ it was just open⌠i didnâtââ
he stands there in silence, and you stand there in silence, and the evidence sits on the desk between you like a wall that makes you feel intensely exposed, even though heâs the one whoâs sitting naked on the open screen.
your first instinct (after panic, of course) is to slink home and hide yourself in your room and try to erase the image of your best friendâs dick from your memory. youâve never thought they looked very attractive before, but his is weirdly beautiful to look at, and youâre not willing to explore that train of thought. also, way bigger than you were expecting, but itâs not like you thought about it often enough to guess how big he is or anything.Â
âmaybe i should go home and we should just forget about tonight,â you rush to add when he still doesnât say anything after a lengthy pause.Â
junâs face falls, and you immediately feel a pang of guilt for trying to run. âyou don't have to go,â he says quickly. âitâs notâ um, nothing weird about it, right? iâm sorry, i should have closed it, orâŚâ he pauses, stumbling over his words almost as badly as you are. âi donât wanna make you uncomfortable. i promise my sheetsâand everything in my roomâis clean.â he tries an awkward smile, and it makes you feel really bad about making him feel bad.
âit's not weird at all. it's totally normal. i was just⌠surprised,â you try to smile back, but it doesn't work as well on you as it does on him. âjust a shock, i guess. trying to process it. but it's fine. i promise.â
âi won't make it weird,â he says. âyou don't have to watch it or anything.â he kind of wants you to.
âi wasn't thinking about it.â you definitely were.
there's another uncomfortably long silence. âso anyway, did you pick out a movie?â he asks at the same time you ask him a question, both trying to keep the conversation going, but you realize you should've kept your mouth shut and let him take the lead because he is way more capable of being normal about this than you are.
âwhat do you think about when you do it?â you blurt out, and you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth because you've realized just how invasive of a question that is and you're kind of hoping he didn't hear you, but he definitely did because he's sitting at the edge of his bed with a shocked look on his face, because out of all the things he was expecting you to say it definitely wasn't that.
âdon't answer that. i don't know why i said that,â you follow up immediately, trying to mitigate the damage but it's too late.
his eyebrows are scrunched up in thought. âno, i don't care. iâum⌠i just don't know how to answer that without making it weird.â
âyou don't have to,â you say quickly.
he turns to you, but you pointedly look away. âdo you actually want to know?âÂ
you look down at your hands, doing everything to avoid his eyes. âkinda.â yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
he laughs a little, and miraculously somehow it manages to lighten the tension, hearing that familiar sound. âyou seem, like, really uncomfortable. we can just⌠pretend it never happened.â
âit's gonna be hard to do that. it's not every day you find out your best friend is a porn star,â you say finally. you force yourself to lift your head, at least in his general direction since you can't meet his eyes. you settle on looking at his mouth instead, but that was definitely a mistake because now you're staring at his lips and noticing for the first time how pretty they are and how soft they look and now you're wondering what it would feel like to kiss those lips and toâ
âit's not really like being a porn star⌠well, kind of, it is. but like, not really, becauseââ he cuts himself off when he notices you staring. âsorry, i'll drop it. we donât have to get into it.â
âno, i'm curious now,â you say. somehow you find the will to lift your head, finally meeting his eyes. âtell me how you do it.â
he stares blankly. âlike how i jerk off, or⌠oh, you meant how the videos work,â he laughs as it clicks into place in his mind. obviously you wouldn't mean it like thatâas much as he wishes you did.
you didnât realize it until now but the uncomfortable, awkward tension at the initial shock of finding out that your best friend has a mildly successful porn career, has slowly been melting away into a different kind of tension. maybe itâs the adrenaline, the fight or flight instinct, or something else entirely, but itâs succeeded in making you bolder than you should be. everything in you should be telling you no, drop it, donât invade his privacy, but all you can think is yes, please, tell me everything.
âis that what you were doing earlier? when i got here?â
he tilts his head imperceptibly at your question, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he tries to gauge your reactions. thereâs something in the air and itâs beginning to affect him too. âi feel like youâve already guessed the answer to that.â
you canât help the smirk that tugs at the corner of your lips at his words, gaining confidence with each passing second. âi told you, iâm curious.â
âfine.â he cocks an eyebrow at you. âyeah, i was. what else do you wanna know?â
âyou never answered my question earlier.â
âwhat do i think about?â he repeats, tactfully ignoring the blush creeping up his neck into his cheeks. âtrade secret. i canât tell you.â
clearly you arenât satisfied with his answer, so he sighs and looks over at you. strands of wet hair from his shower rest across his forehead, and you canât help but be reminded of how he looked when youâd first walked in, sweaty bangs sticking to his face in a similar fashion.Â
âitâs not any different than when i do it off camera. same thoughts.â his eyes trail down your body briefly before snapping back up to your face. âmost of the time i donât even remember iâm being filmed. just feels like a normal afternoon to me.â
when he meets your eyes again they almost seem to sparkle with a mischievousness he hasnât seen from you in a long, long time. âso this is a normal afternoon for you, then? letting people watch you jerk off?â the words are more vulgar than heâs ever heard from you, but they taste good and satisfying on your tongue.
if even a quarter of junâs brain was functioning normally right now, he might have the good sense to refuse to answer your questions. his side job was never supposed to be found out by friends or family, not because heâs embarrassed about what he does, but because he likes having that space to experiment with himself. itâs true he can try out fetishes and kinks he wouldâve never known about before, yes, but more important to him is the fact that he can do whatever he wants, be whoever he wants to be, act however he wants to act.
yet he instantly buckles the second you smile and bat your pretty eyelashes at him without so much as a second thought. for as long as heâs known you heâs always had the urge to tell you everything, to talk for hours and hours about anything on his mind. heâs never felt like he needs to hide anything from you; even with this, his darkest secret, heâs an open book. willing and far too eager to answer anything you ask him.
a small, distant part of him has sort of always wanted you to find out about his alter ego, to question him exactly as youâre doing now. the thought of his secret becoming your secret, too.Â
âi guess so, yeah.â he grins and glances over at his laptop still sitting open, the image of himself paused on the screen.
you follow his eyes, looking back and forth between him and the video and trying not to find the similarities between the two. âyou ever do anything⌠together? or just solo?â
only after youâve said it do you realize how that question sounded coming out, and yet again you wish you could take back your words. it wasnât meant to be an offerâthough deep down you really wouldnât mind that at allâbut despite the numerous boundaries youâve already overstepped tonight, you donât think thatâs a line youâre willing to cross just yet.Â
being aware of your best friendâs homemade porn and even watching it is one thing, but actually fucking him is completely different. and no matter how bad your feelings are for him, it still feels off limits. unless he suddenly decides to grab you by the neck and tell you he wants you to ride him until your legs give out (which youâd gladly do, for the record), youâre just going to have to keep those desires to yourself.Â
the implications of your question hang unanswered in the air, and you stumble to explain yourself before he has the chance to outright reject you. âthat's not what i meanânot like that. i wasnât⌠nevermind.â you cut yourself off, hoping you havenât managed to dig yourself a deeper hole.
the corner of his mouth upturns in a smile that you find infuriatingly hot. âyou werenât what? and no, i havenât. never had anybody i liked enough to try it with.â he gets shy again, glancing away from you and staring at his desk chair absently. âi havenât told anyone about it, so itâs not like i have many options even if i wanted to.â
your cheeks flush in embarrassment, and that guilty feeling in the pit of your stomach from seeing something you shouldnât have returns. youâre the only person who knows? and you only saw it on accident, so clearly he didnât mean for anyone to ever find out. fuck, all of this was a mistake and maybe you really should pretend like nothing ever happened.
âiâm sure the people who watch you would be lining up at your door to fuck you if you asked.â
ânot interested.â he doesnât meet your eyes, his gaze lingering on your body again for a moment too long, and for some reason that sparks something within you.
you clear your throat and it grabs his attention, looking up at you in curiosity. âwell, anyway. iâve thought of something for us to watch.â
he perks up a little, and you almost feel bad for what youâre about to do because he seems so excited at the prospect of watching an actual movie. but youâve endured more than enough of your fair share of his teasing over the years, and part of you is still curious to finally see him in action, so you grab his laptop and sit yourself down on his bed.
he walks closer to you to see what youâve picked out for the evening, only to find youâve put his own video on fullscreen, nonchalantly propping his computer up on your lap to watch as if his dick isnât sitting in front of your very eyes in 4k high definition.
his cheeks turn even redder than they already were as he freezes in place, his eyes fixed on the image of his own cock in hand and toned body on display, waiting for you to press play.
âyou coming?â you pat the bed next to you expectantly, smiling such an innocent little smile as if youâre unaware of what youâre doing, though both of you already know exactly whatâs going to happen. and itâs driving him up the fucking wall.Â
heâs so flustered that he doesnât even laugh at your pun, still standing at the foot of his bed and trying to summon every last shred of his dignity to stop himself from getting hard for the second time tonight. just the thought of you wanting to watch him, showing interest in the videos of him pleasuring himself has all the blood in his body rushing towards his cock, and he doesnât know how much longer heâll be able to keep pretending heâs fine with this.
âiâve never watched them after filming them. i was there the first time⌠never felt like i needed to revisit it.â he doesnât mention the real reason he doesnât watch them is because heâs afraid to see what he looks like when heâs thinking about youâ afraid to see how his body reacts in ways that it definitely shouldnât be without your knowledge.
you bite your lip absentmindedly, looking up at him with an inviting expression. âfirst time for everything, right?â despite the confidence youâve gained your voice still ends up coming out soft and shy, as if youâre afraid to admit how badly you want to see how this plays out.
junâs face flushes as he tries to ignore the way his pants continue to grow tighter. âyou wanna watch me? i meanâ the video? together?â heâs honored⌠no, heâs more than honored. thousands of people watch his videos daily, yet the only one he cares about is sitting on his bed and smiling that pretty smile of yours at him.
he rests his palms on the edge of his bed frame, and you canât help the way your eyes rake over his body in reaction. heâs tall and always has been, towering over you as long as youâve known him, but he never seems to be aware of just how big he is. or maybe he is and just knows how to use it to his advantage. either way, you canât hide the shiver running down your spine as he leans over the bed towards you.
he can feel his body tingling with anticipation as he takes a seat down anxiously beside you, your fingers hovering over the mousepad before you finally unpause the video. no going back now.
at first you think the sound isnât working as you watch him adjust his position on the chair in silence, but when you hear the seat squeak you realize heâs just quiet. your palms are clammy as you keep your hands planted at your sides, waiting for the action to start. just the image of him naked is enough to send you into a spiral, but you force yourself to be patient, knowing thereâs better things to come.
you try not to stare at him next to you, but itâs impossible with the way he keeps nonchalantly adjusting his sweats every few seconds. you can tell heâs trying not to let on how hard he is, but unfortunately for him you're way too hyper aware of yourself in this moment and nothing goes unnoticed.
your gaze stays glued to the screen as you watch the recording of jun leaning back in his chair, tentatively taking his cock into his hand with a soft sigh. you donât notice that youâve been holding your breath until he starts moving his hand up and down along his length, letting out a shaky sigh that matches the ones from his recording. your cheeks are burning but you canât bring yourself to stop staring as he brushes his thumb across his leaking tip, smearing his precum around with his fingers.
the muscles in his thighs tense and he lets out a little whine, and it sends a shiver throughout your whole body. you canât see his face on the video, but youâve seen his expressions enough to get the picture, and it drives you wild. you need to see it close up, need to see those faces he makes and confirm the way youâve imagined it.
but even with his beautiful, painfully hard cock right in front of you, you still canât take your eyes off of the friendship bracelet tied around his wrist, watching as it brushes against his cock with every stroke of his fist. you wonder how long heâs been doing this, how long and youâd never realized. heâd never seemed like the type, but then again, you were learning a lot of things about your friend tonight.
you manage to pry your eyes away from the video but your gaze just ends up back on instead, sitting beside you with the same thin bracelet adorning his slender wrist. you squeeze your thighs together as you stare at it, willing yourself not to think about it, but when another broken and muffled moan comes out of the laptop speaker you canât take it anymore.
you suddenly stop the video, pushing his computer off your lap and closing the screen. he jumps and looks at you, eyes wide with concern. you'd hated it, didn't you? you thought he was a loser and this was all such a bad idea and he should've pretended it never happened in the first place because now your friendship is ruined andâ
"show me."
jun swears he stops breathing for a second. he must not have heard you clearly, but when he pulls his gaze up to meet yours he finds you staring back expectantly, a hint of a smile on your face and a look in your eyes that makes him want to pounce on you and never look back.
"what?" his voice comes out cracked. god, if you're saying what he thinks you are⌠he's never been this hard in his entire life, including all the times he's edged himself to the thought of you. there's no way in hell he isn't hallucinating right now, because the expression on your face is straight out of his dreams.
your wandering eyes flit down to his bulge. "i thought you said you did live shows."
your heart is pounding, fearing you've finally crossed that last forbidden line for good. who knows when you got so bold, but you couldn't handle watching another second of that video without doing something about it. despite his shyness you know he's enjoying this, with the way he keeps tugging at the hem of his shirt and struggling to hide his painfully obvious boner. it's not like you're doing any better yourself, and you wonder if he can feel the heat radiating off your body right now or if he's noticed the way you can't stop squirming.
you hadn't expected that hearing his breathy whimpers through the laptop's tinny speakers and watching his abs flex on the screen as he squeezes his hand around his cock would have such an effect on you, but it's hard not to when the star of the movie is sitting right beside you. you're afraid to even move, at risk of revealing the wet spot beneath you seeping into his sheets that he was so adamant earlier about being clean. well, you know one thing for sureâ they won't be clean after tonight.
so, you clear your throat and choose your next words carefully this time, knowing exactly what you're asking for and hoping, praying it'll be reciprocated. "why would i wanna watch a video when i can see it in person?"
"fuckâ" his voice is strained, and your stomach flips at the sudden low tone coming from his throat that you aren't used to hearing. "you wantââ
"i wanna see you," you cut him off, jumping on the chance that he didn't immediately shut you down. you look pointedly at the bulge in his pants, making sure he sees you looking. "do you ever do private shows?" you feel the heat in your cheeks burning with shyness, but you press on, your voice soft. "you know⌠one on one?â
ânoâ yeah,â he says hurriedly. âi mean, i can now. for you. if you want.â he adds the last part like an afterthought, because even though you just straight out asked to watch him jerk off, he still canât comprehend that youâre into this. that you, his best friend of all people, is this eager to see him.
your reply comes out choked with desperation, but heâs so lost in your reactions that you doubt he even notices the change in your tone. âplease?â
with dazed eyes he nods, moving his hands down to the waistband of his pants, and it feels like time moves in slow motion as you strain your eyes for a glimpse.
your breath catches in your throat as you watch him push his sweatpants down just below his hips, freeing his cock. the thick veins on his hands that you're used to ogling in your free time are nothing compared to the veins that cover his length, and theyâre nothing compared to the grainy video from his computer, either. you're so tempted to touch him, you have to physically restrain yourself from reaching over and wrapping your hand around him, to feel its weight in your palm and feel how hard he is.
he soaks up your reaction, his pride soaring at the way your mouth is practically watering for him. he makes sure you're watching, then pushes his sweatpants all the way off and leans back against the headboard of the bed, spreading his legs to get a more comfortable position before he starts.
âyou gonna answer my question now?â you ask, your voice soft yet still teasing as he begins to drag his hand up and down his shaft slowly, pumping himself to full hardness as if he hadn't already been fully hard for the last hour.
the look in his eyes when he glances back up at you makes your heart jump, and suddenly the answer seems as clear as day. but youâre afraid to believe in it in case youâre still wrong about everything; even now as you kneel beside him on his bed, his eyes boring into yours as you watch him fist his cock, you canât let yourself have hope that he feels the same about you. thereâs been nothing to suggest that he does, besides the fact that he didnât immediately throw you out of his house the second you found out about his alternative career.
he doesnât answer for a long moment, and you feel your entire body growing hot under his gaze. for the second time tonight you feel stripped bare, despite the fact that youâre fully clothed and heâs the one half naked in front of you.
âare you sure you wanna hear the answer?â he says finally, and despite the way his voice comes out choked you can tell heâs just as nervous about this as you are. years of friendship changed by just one sentence, but whether itâll be for better or for worse, you havenât figured out yet.
youâre not sure if you really do, but you nod anyway, searching his eyes for any signs of hesitation. he groans softly, bucking his hips up a little into his fist as he opens his mouth to speak. you scoot closer to hear him, drawn to him like a magnet and your heart pounding as you wait for the words you so badly want to hear.
âright now?â he pauses. âiâm thinking about how bad i wanna kiss you.â
and after that itâs like a dam breaking apart, losing every bit of self control youâd worked so hard to maintain for so long as you press forward and meet his lips. his hands jump to your hips, instantly forgetting what he was doing as he gently tugs you onto his lap to get a better angle.Â
you slide your legs beneath you, straddling his lap with your knees on either side of his waist as your mouth slides against his. kissing him comes as naturally to you as breathing, almost immediately finding a rhythm with his nose pressed against your cheek.
he starts out slow, tentative, but as soon as you kiss him back heâs throwing his own self control to the wind and pulling you deeper into him. you can feel his aching cock pressing into your stomach, and it takes everything in you not to grind down on him and ease the throbbing between your legs.
you finally force yourself to pull away, taking in the sight of him. his cheeks are flushed and heâs panting, eyes darting back and forth between yours in questioning at your sudden pause. âisâ is that all you think about?â you ask, but it comes out more like a whimper. if it were anyone else youâd be mortified at how worked up youâve gotten in such a short time, but if anything jun looks worse than you do right now.
âi think about you every fucking time,â he admits breathlessly. as always, giving up his so-called trade secrets the second you ask, because he canât hide anything. doesnât want to hide anything from you. âcanât stop thinking about you, even when i try not toââ
âduring your streams?â
ââespecially during my streams.â
you push your hips down gently, feeling your soaked panties sticking uncomfortably to your folds at the movement, but itâs all worth it for the angelic moans that fall from his lips in return. âand earlierâŚ?â you pry. you donât know why youâre so full of questions tonight, but a part of you relishes in his praise and the way he so readily admits his thoughts to you.
he stifles another groan, his hands trailing haphazardly over your body like a kid in a candy store, as if he isnât sure what to touch first but he does know that he wants to touch all of you. âearlierâ got so hard thinking about you coming over, i couldnât help itâŚâ he squeezes his eyes shut as you reach up to rest your arms around his shoulders. âso fucking lucky that youâre my friend, i donât deserve you.â
you brush your thumb against his cheek and his eyes shoot open, his hips stuttering beneath you in surprise. âwhy?â you ask softly. if anyone is undeserving of your friendship, it should be you, not him; the way he treats you like a queen, practically worshipping the ground you walk on and being the best friend youâve ever had.
ââcauseââ he swallows hard and looks up at you, his fingers shaking a little as they wander across your hips. âfuck, the way i think about you⌠youâd never say yes to that.â
you smile softly, leaning closer to him until your mouths are just inches apart and you can feel his hot breath on your lips. âyou never asked me.â you glance up at him expectantly, nodding your head to give him a chance to say whatâs on his mind.
âcan iââ he curses under his breath, his mind going haywire at even just the thought of you letting him have more of you. âcan i kiss you again?â
and itâs such a genuine request that you have no choice but to indulge him, your lips parting to let him in. itâs a kiss that you feel in your entire body, from the hands that have moved to your back gently guiding you towards him, to the butterflies in your chest and much lower places. you wantâno, you need all of him, all at once, need his hands and his cock and his sweet, sweet kisses.
you lean back and press your mouth against his neck instead, feeling his soft skin beneath your lips as you start to suck. he groans in response when you nip at the underside of his chin, beginning to suck harder until you bite down gently and lift your eyes to see his reaction.
suddenly he wraps his hand behind your neck and pulls your head up to meet him face to face, crashing his lips back against yours in a frantic battle of tongue and teeth, filled with a newfound desperation. his eyes are closed and brows furrowed as he kisses you, one hand on the back of your head guiding you into him.
you frantically paw at his shirt, struggling to keep yourself contained. "jun, pleaseâ let me see you."
he leans forward away from you and tears his shirt off over his head without so much as a word in reply, quickly settling back and meeting your lips once again. his mind is racing a mile a minute, so eager to give you whatever you want, whatever you ask for, whatever you need.
he's so caught up in pleasing you that the thought of asking you to take off your shirt in return doesn't even cross his mind; you could sit fully clothed on his lap for the rest of the night and he'd still be over the moon. but you do it anyway, just as eager to please him as he is for you. you pull your shirt off as fast as you can, whining in frustration when you tug too roughly and it gets caught in your hair for a half second. but you feel his hand slide up your back and help you, untangling it and balling the fabric in his fist, tossing it across the room before pulling you back to him.
you fall forward and catch yourself on the wall behind his head, forcing you to readjust your seat on his lap and cupping his cheeks with your hands to stabilize yourself. jun shifts his position as well, threading one arm around your waist and pulling you tighter against him. his palm on your skin makes you feel like you're on fire, his hand pressing gently but firmly against the bare skin of your hip.
you can feel his length resting between your bodies, still hard as ever and throbbing from so much stimulation yet so little of it being directed at where he wants it most. you start to rock your hips, slowly grinding against him and feeling your cunt pulse through the thin fabric of your panties, and you wonder if he can feel it, too.
if he does then he doesnât mention it, too caught up in roaming his hands over your chest now that your shirt is out of the way. you feel shy, not used to so much attention from one person and especially not used to it coming from him. a part of you wishes youâd at least worn a prettier bra, but he doesnât even seem to notice that itâs the old ratty one you wear around the house. in his eyes it might as well be made of solid gold, with the way he touches it so delicately and looks up at you in a frenzy, begging you to let him take it off.
his palms cup your breasts the second the fabric is on the floor, moaning unabashedly as he pushes his face into your chest. his tongue laves over your skin with his eyes closed in bliss, and he groans into your breast before he finally tears his mouth away from you, giving you both a second to breathe.
"please let me fuck you," he rasps, his arm still wrapped around your waist as he holds your body close to his. "fuck, pleaseâ god, i need you so bad. i'll take such good care of you, baby, please, just let me. i'll do whatever you want me to, pleaseâ"
you shiver at the desperation in his voice, and if he wasn't still cradling the back of your head in his palm you probably would've fallen backwards with a moan. even from the few minutes of his video that you'd managed to watch he didn't seem like much of a talker, so the way he rambles on and on begging for you feels like a breath of fresh air.
you waste no time in telling him yes, practically falling off his bed in your rush to stand up and strip the rest of your clothes off. he wraps his hand around his cock once more and begins to thrust shallowly into his fist as he watches you shimmy out of your pants, and you whimper at the sight thatâs become so familiar over the past hour.
both finally naked, you start to reposition yourself on his lap, but in a split second he flips you over onto your back instead. you let out a yelp as he cages you in with his long limbs, his cock resting against your body as he hovers over you.Â
âplease,â he pants, his expression pleading with you just as much as his words are. you donât even know what heâs pleading for at this point but you nod quickly anyway, moaning out his name until he silences you with another hot kiss.
he sits back on his heels, kneeling between your legs as you spread them open wider for him. he forces himself to look away from your dripping pussy long enough to position himself at your entrance. thereâs so much more he wants to do, so much he wants to try with you, but after dreaming about you for so long and now youâre finally here, heâs not sure heâll last long enough to find out. another day, he tells himself as he lines up his cock. another time, if youâll let him.
he looks up at you, waiting for you to give him a signal or to back out if youâve changed your mind, but you meet his eyes and bite at your lip and give him the tiniest nod.
his hands are shaking as he guides himself into you, pushing just the tip inside and looking back up at you for confirmation before continuing.
by the time heâs halfway inside of you he has to squeeze his eyes shut as hard as he can, every muscle in his body concentrating on trying not to explode at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him. a million thoughts are running through his head and he can barely see straight at this point, his tunnel vision focused on you and only you. if he remembers only one thing from tonight, he wants it to be this sight right here: the image of your face scrunched up in pleasure, your mouth hanging open in a breathless moan as you clench wildly around his cock.Â
your hand grips his bicep impossibly tight as you adjust to his size, your fingers gradually relaxing as he continues to push into you until he bottoms out with a high pitched whine.
it takes a second for you to adjust, but as soon as you start begging him to move his body starts running on autopilot, his hips pistoning into you with more force than he knew he had in him. heâs stopped talking by now, almost completely silent except for the occasional groan and muttered curse.
you lift your legs to wrap them around his waist, pressing into his back with your heels to get him to thrust deeper until you fall apart in his arms with a cry, burying your face in his chest as your vision goes blank and the wind gets knocked out of your lungs.
he leans down over you, putting his hand between your head and the wall to stop you from being slammed into it from his thrusts as you crest into your orgasm. all you can do is hold on tightly to him, biting at his collarbone to stifle your noises as his eyes dart across your face, desperate to see how beautiful you look when you cum for him. for him, for only him, for your best friend whoâs so in love with you it physically hurts.
what finally breaks him is the gentle way you reach up and hold his head with one hand, guiding him down to your lips to kiss you once more. your fingers tremble with aftershocks as you thread them into his hair, using his body to ground yourself as he fucks you into the mattress.Â
his hips stutter and he barely pulls out in time to cum all over your pussy, his cock twitching as he releases onto your skin with a broken moan. thereâs nothing he wants more in this world than to cum inside you, but in his desperation he didnât think to ask ahead of time, and even his last functioning brain cell isnât going to let that happen without your permission.
your fingers untangle themselves from his hair, sliding to his neck and down to his chest as he heaves shallow breaths. he blinks rapidly, trying to reorient himself and calm his racing heart.
âjun?â
he barely hears you calling his name, but his head tilts down to look at you before he can process it. youâre just as much of a mess as he is, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead and his cum coating your lower half, your chest rising and falling as you struggle to catch your breath.
and just like that, the fog in his mind is cleared and heâs jumping into action. heâs gonna do what he always does, what he has to do: be there for you and do everything right, even when he has no idea whatâs ârightâ anymore because he just fucked his best friend and the love of his life and thatâs not usually what best friends do, so what does that make him now? he doesnât know and he doesnât care, but what he does care about is making sure youâre as comfortable as possible in this, probably the weirdest and most uncomfortable situation ever.
your fingers latch onto his wrist before he can get away, and he whips around with such a dumbfounded expression that you canât help but laugh a little. âjun,â you repeat his name again, and this time it gets through to him and he pauses, eyes wide as he looks down at you.
âhuh?â
âwhere are you going?â
âtoâŚâ he trails off, because he doesnât actually know where heâs going, but his brain knows he has to do something. âuh, clean?â
you laugh. âgod, i love you so much. justâ câmere.â
you tug on his wrist and he topples down onto you with a yelp, but you wrap your arms around him until he stops wiggling and just sits still against you.
your bodies are covered in sweat, sticking to each other as you hold him, but itâs the most comfortable youâve felt in what must be years. âwhat are you so nervous for?â you ask him with a soft chuckle, pushing his hair out of his forehead.
âbecauseâŚâ he pauses again and looks up at you, worry clouding his gaze. âbecause youâre so perfect. and i donât wanna mess this up.â
âyouâre not going to, jun. promise.â you exhale and stroke his hair again. âif anything, iâm the one that messed things up. i shouldnât have found out about your⌠you know.â
âcan i say that iâm glad you did, or is that weird?â he asks with a breathy giggle.
your cheeks flush with heat, but you canât disagree. âiâm glad too,â you admit, and the dopey grin on his face makes up for all the awkwardness ten times over.
you exhale slowly, finally feeling your body return to normal. you dread standing upâyouâre not even sure if youâd be able to, after thatâbut for now it feels good to just lay here with junâs head on your chest.
âso what about your channel?â
âiâll delete it,â he rushes to say. âwhatever you want me to do. i donât careâ i donât want it anymore. all i want is you.â
you tuck a lock of hair behind his ear with a smile, feeling your cheeks glow from his praise. âwell, i donât want you to do that. all your loyal viewers will miss out on seeing you doing more than just jerking off alone.â
he raises an eyebrow at you, trying to understand if you mean what he thinks you mean. âlikeâŚ?â
âlike letting them watch you fuck your girlfriend?â you finish for him tentatively. even after everything tonight you still have doubts that youâve misread his intentions, that maybe this is just a one-time thing to him and you donât mean as much to him as he means to you.
he studies your face carefully. âis that what you are?â he asks hesitantly.
you nod slightly, the shyness from earlier suddenly rushing back in at the possibility of being rejected. âunless you didnât want me to be.â
he shakes his head so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. ânoâ please. i do. so bad.â
you break out into a smile, cupping his face in your cheeks and leaning in to kiss his forehead. he hums, and the vibrations are warm against your chest . âyou couldâve just asked me. like, years ago. would have avoided all the awkwardness ofâŚâ
âof you finding out iâm a porn star?â
you giggle, and he thinks itâs the most adorable sight heâs ever seen. lying naked in your arms together, making you laugh. âi thought you said you werenât.â
he grins. ânot really. but it makes me sound cooler when you say it.â
âi think youâre cool anyway, jun.â
he shifts and leans forward to capture your lips in his again, his mouth slow and tender as he kisses you this time. âi never wanna stop kissing you.â
you rub your thumbs across his cheeks, watching his fond expression that you know must be mirrored with your own. âthen donât.â
â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â â
i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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Eek~ I just found your blog and it's absolutely stupendous, so I'mma send my first request~ Dorm leaders (plus Ruggie, Lilia, and Rook)'s reactions to waking up to a random cat (not Grim, a real cat) on their chest. Upon closer inspection, the collar lists MC (they're romantic partner) as the owner. Thank you!! Sorry if that's too many people you can drop a few!
Summary: Ruggie/Leona/Riddle/Idia/Lilia x reader
A/N- didn't do all the boys, just the ones I thought would have the most variety of reactions. But if the people asked I'd be willing to do more
3k follower Masterlist
"Um, meow?"
His first instinct is to meow in confusion. What the fuck is this cat doing here? He came home for the night, clocked out on the couch, and now he's so dazed. He's not sure if this is even happening.
His next question is, does he have to feed it? He's already working hard to help you both in life. He's not sure he can afford another mouth to feed. Even if you are working, and assure him you'll pay for the cat, he's gonna whine on and on about it. It's going to become clear that he's secretly jealous about the thought of someone else taking his place in your heart.
Wanna get him to shut up? Tell him it's good practice for when you two decide to raise a family together. He won't have a good response to that aside from a very red face.
"Well, hello, little one."
He's going to carry it around like it's nothing. He might not even check the tag and see it's yours. He's fae. He sees something child shaped that he likes, he takes it.Â
He's not sure if he'll give you the cat back. What do you have to offer him in exchange?
Don't worry, he won't really steal your cat, he's just being a delightful scamp. Now come here and give him a kiss.
"What are you doing here?"
First thing he does is check the collar. Because if he doesn't, he's going to get attached, then be sad when he has to give it back.
When he sees it's yours he gets more excited. He loves small squishy creatures, touch starved baby and now he gets to play with another one whenever he wants!
He'll get it a red collar, with a jewel pendant. He'll get it lots of cute outfits, he'll hold it up in the air, and regardless of gender, say things like, "behold! The true queen of hearts! Bow before their majesty!"
"Fuck off."
He can't help it. His instincts see a rival cat. And it has your smell on it. You're his territory. This home is his territory. Fuck off.
He hasn't moved, or stopped making eye contact with the "thing" since he woke up, and you're going to walk in on him having a staring contest with a house cat. He'll snap past his instincts only once you come into the room.
He wasn't jealous of a cat. Shut your fucking mouth before he shuts it for you!
"Omg! This is one of the best cutscenes I could have possibly woken up to!!!!!!"
The most excited out of anybody. He might even squeal, he's so excited. Might shout, might squeak, might excitedly scream as he spins around with the kitty in his arms. Gives it a nickname like Mr. Fluffers.
He'll be doubly excited when he sees your name on the tag. Now he doesn't have to have Ortho scan for a chip, and return it to some noob who doesn't deserve it!Â
Anytime you talk about your cat, he pulls up a version of the communism meme that he edited to read, "Our Cat."
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reading the transcript of james somerton's video and here's some notable stuff for people who dont want to watch the 34 minute long thing:
it opens with him saying his media blackout is because he was in the hospital for "trying to do something really stupid"
the first thing approaching an apology in this apology video is at the timestamp 2:20
immediately after saying "i'm really really sorry" he says that in title cards he tried to put "this is based on this person's research or this person's book" but he "knows that isnt enough now"
"there were a lot of times that stuff just got put in and there was no attempt at crediting anybody and i'm really really sorry" nice passive voice james
he claims he didnt know he was hurting people doing this
he spends two minutes explaining how long he's been friends with nick and all their history and that nick has not spoken with him since "this happened"
"I also want to apologize for the misinformation and just outright lies that ended up in the videos I can honestly say that I never intended for any of that stuff to be in the videos. And most cases I didn't write it but I should have [âŚ] I should have been more diligent about factchecking" he never intended lies to be in the video, just pure good research that he stole. research that he later says he took for granted
he briefly thanks harris and his team for the fund set up for victims of plagiarism and says he wants to help but doesn't know how
less than a second later he's saying that all claims and estimations of how much he makes online are overestimated and that he split everything 50/50 with nick
he says his plan moving forward is to reupload all the videos, put credit in the description, and then somehow send the ad revenue for those videos to the authors whose research he stole. do those authors want that? wonder if he even asked them. i mean if he stole my shit for a video i wouldnt want him to reupload with a credit in the description and whatever paltry cents i get from the few views he'll manage after this
"I never thought anyone thought that I was doing like journalism on stuff. I don't think anyone did, but the people who actually were doing it should have been given the credit they deserved." wild sentence bro
he once again defends his title card citations in two videos and appends "but now I know that's not how citation works" so why are you still saying it...
at some point he'd like to do videos again, and his plan for that is "videos that are fully sourced where I will put a link to the script where you can find all of the sources so that everyone is properly given the credit that they deserve."
now i could be reading this purposefully negatively but this just sounds like a description citation again but with extra steps
he wants to be a "really good example" of proper citation
"People think that I hate ace people and women and bisexual people and lesbians and that's not true. I'm sorry that stuff made it into the videos. I promise you I did not write that stuff. I should have been a lot more extracting when Nick and I would be editing scripts but I promise you that I don't think those things [âŚ] when it came to that I would just kind of run with Nick's judgement and his observations and stuff like that." SO THE ONE THING THAT HARRIS SAID WAS NOT PLAGIARIZED AND SEEMED TO BE JAMES'S REAL OPINION HE WANTS US TO KNOW THAT HE DEFINITELY DOESNT FEEL THAT WAY AND WAS JUST PARROTING NICK'S OPINION. but dont worry right after this he assures us he's not trying to "throw Nick under the bus"
he says he thinks they were just trying to do videos too fast and writing and editing too fast
"Telos was never a scam. It was never a grift or anything like that I swear it was not. In the next couple of days I'm going to send out a message to the supporters on Indiegogo and explain the whole situation in more detail to them." can't wait to read that explanation
he spends more time talking about the videos he'd like to make in the future
"I actually liked doing research. I loved doing research, reading the books and articles and stuff like that. The part of me that was lazy was the copy and paste part. I wasn't trying to be malicious that was just laziness." james. that's not as great of an explanation as you might think. it just shows how blatantly you dont respect or care for other creators. you only did it because you believed you could get away with it, not just because you were lazy
he says the reason he's reactivating his patreon is because there were several people online theorizing that his plan was to relaunch in january to pull surprise billing and run with the money. so he said he's relaunching now to give people time to leave ("which i imagine will be the vast majority" can't pass up the opportunity to be self-deprecating)
he ends the video restating what he said earlier in the video
notably he's crying the whole time
one thing i'll say is that i didn't see anything that indicated he communicated with harris or kat or anyone. it sounded like he was coming up with that plan on the fly. i'm not surprised if he claimed it elsewhere or has failed to follow up on that promise, but it has only been 5 hours since release (at the time i'm typing this). so at least he's not making claims quite as bold as "i've been in communication with hbomberguy"
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JADE!!! WE WOULD LOVE TO SEE ANOTHER SPENCER X BADASS GIRL!!! maybe its a quiet day and reader & spencer just chilling and joking around in their little world and the others just watching ahahah
thank you for your request babe, I would love to write more for this pairing if u have requests!! ⥠fem!reader
"What are they doing?" Emily asks, a fierce whisper that carries across the jet.Â
"I think they're flirting," JJ whispers back.Â
Hotch closes the case file in front of him. There's nothing left to do until they get home but sit here in each other's company. You and Spencer seem to have realised this before anybody else, shoulder to shoulder, a book in his hands. He's slouched with his leg crossed over his knee, taking up the majority of the couch. You seem content to take the brunt of his weight while giggling softly by his ear.Â
Hotch can't lie, he's genuinely startled by your behaviour. It's the total opposite of your usual affect.
"That's not flirting," Rossi says without looking up.Â
Hotch has to agree. You brush a stray hair from Spencer's shoulder and he doesn't so much as blush, turning the page to show you something particular. You lean in closer still, hand resting now on his shoulder.Â
That's not flirting, that's way beyond it. Spencer is practically in your lap, and you âwouldn't hug anyone on your birthday, didn't tell them where you were for four days when you had appendicitis until you were forced, cold, lone wolf youâ look like you're about to cuddle him close and whisper sweet nothings in his ear.Â
You're in your own little world.Â
"I stopped expecting her to push him off twenty minutes ago," Derek says, as seemingly unbothered as Rossi.Â
"Don't tell me you knew about this," Emily says incredulously.Â
"They've been going on dates."Â
"They what?"Â
You laugh happily at Spencer's side, pointing at a specific line with the tip of your fingernail. "When asked, Moroscova said that the length of his stay was an act of perjury," you read.Â
Spencer laughs at your quotation, sharing a secret smile with you. "That haircut is an act of perjury."Â
Your eyes glow with a look Hotch knows well. Haley looked at him like that for years. "Thanks for reading this with me. I know I'm slow."Â
"You're not slow. I'm really fast. There's a difference."
It's the definition of young love, Hotch thinks, all those heartfelt reassurances disguised as brags, stolen touches, Spencer's knuckles stroking up and down your outer thigh.Â
He turns back to his book and you stare at the side of his face. It's a little heartbreaking. Hotch knows if things don't work out between you, you'll take it hard. Your affection for Spencer has always been in the silent things, undulating, until lately: you listen to him talk when nobody else has the patience, what must amass to hours and hours of stories and statistics; you defend him at every turn, in every precinct in every city; when Spencer has a hard time, you refuse to rest until he feels better. The case before this one, the unsub beat you across the face with the handle of his gun, and you leaned out of the ambulance with your eye glued shut to make sure Spencer got anaesthetic before his stitches. You look at him like he's hanging the moon in real time.Â
"Okay, that's too much," Derek says. Hotch detects a hint of brotherly affection in it, but mostly disgust.Â
You raise your gaze from Spencer's chest, the breezy smile playing on your lips flattening into a hard line. You send Derek your fiercest glare, him being the first in your line of sight, and Emily gets the shock of her life when you turn and narrow your eyes at her, too.Â
Emily smiles widely. "Hey, how's it going over there?" she asks.Â
"Why are you guys looking at me?" you ask.Â
"You can't guess?" Derek says.
"If I could guess, I wouldn't have asked."Â
Hotch gives you a disapproving look. Tone it down, Agent.Â
"I just wanna know what's so interesting," you say, leaning into indifference. Â
Spencer looks up from his book. "What?"Â
"Nothing," you say, your tone gentler in a capacity only profilers might notice. "Don't worry about it."
Spencer sits up and your eyebrows pinch down. Hotch wants to save it and he also doesn't get paid enough. Everything works out in the end, he thinks, not believing himself even slightly as he gets up to make a cup of coffee at the back of the jet. Your sullen tones hardly reach him through the curtain and over the sound of the hot water kettle, Spencer's puzzled reassuring even quieter.Â
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PLS PLS CAN YOU DO THAT CHAT THING WITH KAISER, NESS, SAE AND NAGI WHERE READER TEXTS THEM SAYING âyour face is so pretty I just wanna sit on itâ AND THEIR REACTIONSđđ
author note: Idk how to use fake sms app so I went for an ol' classic gif reaction.
Michael Kaiser:
-What is he looking at? At his reflex on the mirror obviously.
-A laughter starts to blossom from his chest, already pushed out like a proud rooster.
-He slicks his hair back, blue eyes shining with joy. Michael licks his teeth, perfect as he is. Damn, anybody would like to sit on his face; he is so fucking handsome.
-He picks his phone up ready to message you something along the lines of "C'mere. I'll give you the ride of your life." Michael smirks, proud of coming up with such a hot line(it isn't).
-But the message you sent got deleted.
-His eyes bulge out almost cartoon style. Did he dream about it? Was the message from someone else? Michael checks the other chats, but nobody messaged him.
-He doesn't want to message you about that, he isn't desperate! But a voice in the back of Michael's mind screams at him.
-"?" He sends back. "Did you need something?"
"No, Michael. Thanks for worrying." You reply immediately.
-His heart picks a worryingly fast beat. You replied way too fast. A lightbulb turn on in his head, but the idea he comes up with is pretty risky. Michael feels blood running to his ears when he finally presses send.
-"If you are free wanna come over? I need help choosing the new bed covers."
Alexis Ness:
-He is mind-numbing happy. After all, it is a pretty nice compliment to read from his crush.
-If Alexis had a tail it would be wagging left and right now. A dumb smile is plastered on his face while he keeps looking at his phone.
-"What are you looking at, Ness?" It's Michael's voice calling him back to work, mildly annoyed that the other boy's attention wasn't fully on him.
"Oh- It's nothing, Kaiser! Let's go back to training." Alexis hides his cell phone under the last layer of his gym bag. Michael doesn't dig further for once.
-When Alexis opens his phone back the sun already left his place for the moon. He obviously forgot about your message 'till he reads the new ones.
"Have I crossed any boundary, Alexis? I'm sorry if it happened."
"Please I don't want our friendship to be ruined by this."
His heart sunk to his ass and climbed back into his throat in a matter of seconds.
-Alexis calls you, clearly worried. You pick up fast for Alexis' heart health.
"I'm so sorry I didn't reply sooner! I had practice and I had to go then-" he keeps blabbering "I'll do anything for your forgiveness."
"âŚAnything Alexis?"
"Yes."
"I wasn't joking when I sent you that messageâŚmy or your place?"
"Yours. It will be my pleasure." He says, voice finally calm.
-He wasn't joking.
Sae Itoshi:
-"I must have forgotten the part where I asked your opinion."
-HE IS RUDE.
-Sae knows it is a joke. A stupid one to try to tease him. He may not be the brightest mind, but he understands what you are trying to do.
-He goes back to training like nothing happened. Then he showers and all of sudden Sae has the urge to add another line to the previous message he sent.
-Meanwhile, you replied with a ton of sad emojis and other dumb blabbering Sae's mind doesn't even register.
-"Anyway I prefer to eat it from the back."
Sae smiles thinking he has just sent the king of the comebacks, an earth-shattering line. Soon he gets a reply, that makes his smile drop.
"I must have forgotten the part where I asked about your opinion."
-Maybe you are really made for each other.
Seishiro Nagi:
-What a nice message to receive. Not.
-You are hundreds of kilometres of distance what is supposed to happen? Honestly thinking is tiring him out.
-Seishiri sends you the thumb-up emoji and throws his phone somewhere on his bed, pc already turned on to play the newest game.
-But now a worm dug a hole in his head, making Seishiro thinks about the message and not at his ranking flopping; such a noob behavior.
-He thinks about your soft thighs pressing his ears, your warmth enveloping his faceâŚ
-Seishiro facepalms, fingers messaging his temples before brushing away some of his snow white hair strands away from his forehead.
-He doesn't even notice he already dialed your number.
-"Talk dirty."
"What? Muddy pants? Sweaty shirts?"
"Don't play dumb. It's all your fault if I can't concentrate now. And don't let me explain, it's bothersome."
You chuckle at the other end. He can feel the mirth in your voice.
"Sorry angel. You'll have to work if you want the prize."
-He groans in annoyance, head thrown back.
-It seems like Seishiro will have to break his "5 days doing nothing useful" streak.
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Toy Horses Outside the Brothel
You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps)
A/N: This is dedicated to @runnning-outof-time ! Thank you for giving me guidelines and for reading my work before anybody else did. Youâre amazing and I wish I could write Tommy as good as you do.Â
Want to be tagged?   navigation | main master lists | PROTECTION MASTERLIST
BIRMINGHAM, 1900:
Tommy first met her when his father took him to the docks. Arthur Shelby Sr. told impressionable young Tommy that there were kids he could play with by the docks. Tommy agreed, wanting to impress his father. On the way there, right outside of what looked like a house with many rooms, was her.
You were lonely and something in Tommy told him to play with you instead. Besides, the boys were too big around the docks. Arthur Shelby left him right outside the establishment and threw a shilling to you. You picked it up, stuffed it in your pocket, and looked at him.
He smiled at you widely, a tooth missing from his mouth and extended his hand towards you.
âIâm Tommy,â he said. You reciprocate the gesture, telling him your name and shaking his hand. You were more reserved, Tommy noticed. He was so used to the ruckus in their house that he expected every child to be as energetic as them. âWhy did my father give you money?â
âHe wants me to play with you while heâs inside,â you said. âI donât have many toys butâŚI do have this,â you said, showing him your wooden horse toy. They were your prized possession, one of the few gifts that your father sent when he promised the world to your mother.
âOh! I love horses,â he said. âDo you? I like watching horses,â
âYes,â you replied. âMy mother said that my father owned many. Iâve never met him though. Where do you watch horses?â
âThatâs alright. Fathers hit kids. See?â he said, showing you a bruise on his side quickly. âMy mother puts ice on it and it tickles. We watch it in the races. My mum takes me for my birthdays. She usednto ride a white horse before. She told me. Do you go to school?â
âNo,â you shook your head. âBut my mum taught me how to read and how to write. Sometimes, Big Johnny teaches me arithmetic. One plus one equals two,â
âYouâre smart. Whoâs Big Johnny?â
You hummed, making the wooden horse gallop on the murky ground. People in the house all told you that you were. If only poor Mary Magdalene had the means to send you to school. If only. You stop your movements and move your toy towards Tommy.
âHere,â you said. âBig Johnny is the man who runs this place. Heâs kind,â
âYou wonât have a toy,â he replied.
âItâs okay. I have more but theyâre in my mamaâs room. My father sent them. Sorry if itâs dirty,â
âThanks,â he said. Itâs the first time anyone has ever given him something without asking for it. He keeps it with him; keeps the memory of a girl who watched him intently while he played with a toy horse. Thatâs why when his father exited the house, with less money in his pocket, Tommy asked if he could come again next time.
-
When the house closed, you ran to your motherâs room. You usually had to stay out until five in the morning, sleeping on the sacks right in front of the brothel until your mother woke you up. Sheâs been seeing less men these daysâŚalways cooped up in her room, asking for you. She didnât mind if you stained her bed with sweat and grease. Sheâd ask how your day was and you told him about Tommy, the boy you met earlier.
âIâm glad you have a friend,â she coughed into her white handkerchief. The blood stain was normal now. You were worried at first, but your mother told you to never tell anyone. You just never knew how serious it all was when you slipped once. You were talking to Big Johnny; he was teaching you how to subtract.
âIf I help you, are you going to pay me?â you asked, perched on his lap. He had been the only father figure in your life. Heâd help your mum surprise you for your birthdays and give you some money every now and then.
âPay you? Youâre robbing me,â he kids. âWhat do you need the money for?â
âIâm planning to buy mum a present. A nice handkerchief,â you said. âThe one she has has bloodââ
âWhat is it, bug?â he asked, eyebrows furrowing.
âNothing,â you shrugged, smiling sickly sweet.
âYou have to tell me,â he replied. âItâs yourâyour safety,â
It was your turn to look confused.
âBut mum told me to never tell anyone,â you whispered, heart racing. What did he mean by it? âWhy would I not be safe? Iâm safe. I have mum with me,â
Big Johnny ran his hand through his hair, then his chin. You knew that it was a sign of his agitation, so you relented.
âYou canât tell anyone,â you whispered. âBut mum has been coughing up blood for a while. She said itâs fine. You wonât take her from me right, Johnny?â
âFuck, kid,â he sighed, stressed at the sudden turn out of events. âNo more arithmetic today, okay? Iâll go talk to your mum. Just go outside or play or whatever,â
âIs everything okay?â you asked, panic rising in your throat. It constricts while you keep yourself from crying. Â âMum will be so mad at me! Please donât tell on me,â
âDo you know why sheâs coughing up blood?â he asked, his voice serious. He knew that you had to be talked to in his âadult voiceâ for you to listen. You knew that he needed to be stern for you to listen.
âN-noâŚâ your hair falls messily as you shake your head, picking on your nail beds.
âSheâs sick, bug,â he said. âIf we donât do anything about it, you could get sick too. The two of you might die,â he explained. âLook, kidâŚyou have a bright future ahead of you, alright?â
âWhat will you do?â you asked. âYou canât take her from me! Please, Johnny. My mum is all I have,â you cried, tears started flowing once the first one dropped.
Johnny couldnât do anything else. He relented but locked your mother in her room. Whenever you went in, he made sure you had some face mask on to protect yourself. You only saw her for a few minutes every day. Parting her was painful and Johnny had to console you while you cried. He gave up his bunk and slept in his workspace so you wonât have to sleep with your mum.
A week later, your mum died of lung cancer.
It was too late, the doctor explained. Johnny let you stay in his bunk, never mind the fact that he had no space for himself now. He didnât mind. You were his top priority. How is he going to raise a child in a brothel?
-
Your mother always told you that as long as you were with her, you would never be lonely. There was no burial, just her body being thrown and burned with the rest of Birminghamâs garbage. It made you wonder what your body would be like dead. You decided to never end up like her, one way or another you were getting out.
Tommy continued to visit you, but he knew that you were different now. It has only been a week and youâve grown up so fast. When he arrived, a box of your toy horses was prepared for him.
âWhatâs this for?â he asked, eyes brightening up at the sight of the box. His father threw a shilling your way again.
âItâs for you. I donât want to play anymore,â you said. âI kept one white horse for me but you can have them.â
âWhy not?â he asked, galloping the toy you gave him last week. âThank you. I donât have my own. I always have to share with Arthur, John and Ada.â
âMy mom diedâŚyou were my first friend and you never met her,â you said, tears falling on the ground. âIâve been living in Big Johnnyâs room,â
âIâm sorry for your loss,â he said. âMy Aunt Pol says that friends are there for each other. IâmâŚIâm your friend,â
You smiled a teary smile, appreciating the underlying message behind his words. Heâll be there for you. But until when?
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1905
Fifteen, you were fifteen. You havenât even turned fifteen for a week and you were working. The owner of the house told Big Johnny that if you wanted to keep living there, you would have to work too. Johnny had no place for himself, no houseâhis money all went to you. Your clothes, the books youâve read, the food you ate. He'll get you a cake with a candle along with a pound for special occasions. If you were lucky, some of the girls would give you something. Tommyâs dad stopped coming and so was the shilling you got.
He stayed, though. Heâd talk to you about school and how he wanted to leave.
âYouâre lucky youâre in school,â you said, watching Tommy smoke a cigarette. You were never a fan if them, seeing as your mother died of fucking lung cancer. âYou have to stay,â
âIâm not built for it though. Theyâre all so boring,â he said, blowing the smoke away. âIf only I could work like you. Why are you dressed so nicely anyway?â
âThe owner told me to work,â you shrugged, pulling the strap of your dress back on your shoulder. âJohnny asked the boss if I could help him with the girls and management, but he said no. Wanted me to work because it will bring more money in,â you bitterly replied. âI want to go to school but the fucking boss wanted me to present myself as a Cherry Girl. You wanna know what that is?â
âWhat?â
âA fucking virgin.â you shrugged. âSaid many men will pay for someone like me. Todayâs my first night and Johnny cried a little bit when he saw me. Iâd kill and die to go to school, Tom.â
âShit, love, Iâm sorry. I was being insensitive,â he offered. âHm, maybe youâll bag one rich man you know? Some rich bloke from London and heâll take you. Besides, at least you smell nice,â
âThis shit is awful,â you countered, sighing. You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. âFuck, I said I wasnât going to cry tonight.â
âHey,â he said, sitting closer to you. He wraps your arm around you and lets you stay there. âIâm sorry. Iâm so sorry. Iâll stay in school and do well, okay? Iâll study so hard; Iâll take you out of here. Let you live in a mansion with lots of space to run in. Fuck, Iâm sorry, love,â
âItâs not your fault, Tommy,â was your weak reply. âIâm justâŚI told myself that I would never be like my mother and now, I am,â
âYouâre not her,â he whispered, tightening his arms around you.m, never mind if the grease and sweat of his clothes mixed with your perfume. âYouâre not her.â
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1906
âFuck, Tom. You canât stay here while Iâm working,â you scolded. You were lying, you appreciated the fact that Tommy was here. Heâll wait until you finish your shift, until you meet your quota. It was always quick, though. You had a rich patron that covered your every living expense.
âMy patronâs coming,â you told him, and he tenses. He remembered the way you cried to him after your first ever shift last year. How some old fuck didnât even bother. He finished and threw you some coins. He remembered his rage when you told him about this new guy. Heâs quite scary but he pays the most, you said. âHe doesnât like seeing me with other men,â
âIâm a man now?â he quips, a smirk on his lips. âItâs not like I can afford it. Iâm broke. Besides, Iâll act like a bodyguard, yeah? All I ask for payment is a day out with you. Aunt Poll is cooking something on Sunday. Want you to eat something thatâs not whatever is being cooked here. We can go on a picnic. I met a girl who worked at this mansion, and they have lots of flowers in the garden. Shit youâll like,â
You offered him a slight smile, nodding.
âWill your aunt be okay withâŚme eating your food?â you asked. Tommy took notice of how insecurity laced your voice. His suggestions of meeting his family have always been met with resistance. He understood. Although Polly has been insisting on meeting the girl heâs been spending his time with, he couldnât risk his father recognising you and then, treating you like trash.
âOf course. Sheâs been more annoying. Told my mum about the girl Iâm seeing,â he said. âIâll be the first boy to take you out, hm?â
âShut up,â was your only reply.
Sunday comes and you asked your boss for a day off.
That day, Tommy took you to the garden with Pollyâs chicken stew and his mumâs fig cake. Tommy didnât let you work, he set down the food and opened the containers.
âThe best meal youâll ever have,â he said while you sat. âI shouldâve done this earlier. What have you been eating?â
âIâm lucky enough to be fed. Johnny gets me some food out of the brothel sometimes.â you said. âThanks for taking me here. I love it.â
âI knew it,â he said, spooning out your portion and giving it to you.
âI want to have a house with lots of flowers. Different coloured blooms all year round.â you said.
âThe caretaker of the garden says that we can pick some flowers. Do you want to take some home?â he asked. You nodded, a flush on your face. How could someone not love him?
BIRMINGHAM, 1908
âHow have you been my angel?â he asked, twirling your hair in between your fingers. âCanât believe I missed you last week,â he mumbles, kissing your shoulder. You giggled. âI was in London and all I could think of was you,â
âIâve never been to London,â you told him. âAre you going to take me there?â you asked, wide-eyed. Heâs been your patron since you reached 18. He was quite younger than your usual customers. He always came to visit when you were seventeen but never looked at you. As if that made it better.
âYou havenât?â he asked. âIâll take you there, Angel. Iâll show you the whole world. Hm?â
âYou will?â you asked, faux excitement in your voice. He loved this; you knew. He loved that you were a fragile little bird in need of saving. He loved that youâd listen to him talk about his father. Heâs the sappy kind. He liked to hold hands, talk, and make love. Heâs paid you more than anyone else and gave you a hefty allowance. Big Johnny didnât have to think about your safety anymore. âI want to go to the city! Buy everything that I see and justâŚbreathe a different air,â you said.
âFuck, baby, Iâll take you there and buy you everything you ever lay your eyes on. Iâm not fucking around. Iâll take you there,â
âYou will?â you asked. âI donât like the idea of you leaving me. Did you know that? Sometimes, when you leave, I have to lock myself in my room and refuse everyone,â you lied. You locked yourself in because your quota was already met. You were just saying these things to keep him coming back. A little bit of pretending never hurt you. It meant a bigger tip, more money.
âYeah?â he asked.
âOf course,â you said. âYouâre my heroâŚâ
Somehow, you didnât find yourself lying when you told him. You felt dirty, you felt like your mother when she thought your father would give her the world. But Simon paid big money to have you alone for multiple nights a week. Â No other customers were to ask for services.
âIâm your hero, alrightâŚyouâre my little bird. Iâm dead set on taking you with me to London. Once I get my inheritance, Iâll show you the world and get you out of these slums.â
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1909
âYou donât have to do this anymore,â Tommy said. You were well enough to have your own place somewhere near the docks now. Johnny had given you some furniture that the house wasnât using anymore, helping you fix the tables and the chairs that you would be using. Â You didnât have to live at the brothel anymore and it was all thanks to Simon.
âDonât be ridiculous, Tommy,â you chuckled. âDo you like my place?â Tommy looked around, flowerpots littered your house.
âIâm serious.â he asked. âIâll have you safe in Small Heath,â
âAnd my job? What will pay for this place? I finally have enough space for my flowers.â you asked. âI canât just leave. Come on, you have to see the view on my balcony.â
You dragged Tommyâs hand to the balcony to show him the view. You were a little far from the docks now but from your balcony you can see it. The blue water, the usual chaosâŚyou were smiling so freely, so beautifully. Tommy stills, unspoken words lingering in the air. You could realise it tooâŚyouâve been realising it slowly. The world was in your hands. You could seize it if you wanted it. It fills Tommy with determination. It pumps through his veins, and it rings in his ears. Determination, consistency, and power. Three things to play with the worldâŚthree things that heâll have. He could get you a bigger house. If he played right, he could have it all.
âThis is why I got this place,â you said. âI mean, there were others but the view of the docksâŚI used to think everything about it was so ugly, you know? So grey, so evilâŚso grotesque but from the vantage point, everything is different,â a soft smile played on your lips when you let go of Tommyâs hand. He already missed your touch. âI canât leave my job now because I wouldnât have this,â
âIâll work for it,â he says proudly.
âTom, I know youâre not happy with how I earn money. Fuck, Iâm not happy too. I hate that job. I know you hate it when I turn down your offer. But I have nothing else. You have to support your siblings. Donât you get it? Weâre all whores, Tom. We just sell different parts of ourselves. Mine just so happens to be my body.â
It enrages him and you could see it. See his face fall apart, how his jaw ticked.
âIâll do it.â he said. âIâll fucking do it. You think Iâm fucking around when I tell you that Iâll protect you? I will. Iâll make a name for myself and protect you. Iâll fucking protect you; I swear on my life.â
âI know you will, Tom,â you said, inching closer. âBut canât you just be happy for me? This once?â
âWe could add a little chair right here,â he relented. How could he ever tell you how much he hated himself for not being enough right now? Â âIâll bring some of Pollyâs flowers. Youâd let me stay here?â
âOnly if youâre being nice,â
âWhat if Iâm too tired to make the trip back to Small Heath? Can I stay here?â he asked.
âSure,â you shrugged. âBut only if you have food for me or something,â
âOr something? Youâre not letting me stay for free? Iâm your best mate,â he chuckled. âI mooch off you all the time,â
âYou have more than I do. Itâs time for me to mooch off on you,â
âYeah? Well, I want yours,â he said. âIâm glad thoughâŚthat you donât have to live there anymore. Youâre safer here,â
âThank you, Tom,â you smiled, sitting by the railing of your balcony. âIâm glad too.â
âIâll make sure youâre protected,â he promises.
âHow?â
âIâll protect you.â
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1910
Tommy gave you the number of his telephone years ago. You were shaking, something bad had happened and you didnât know who else to turn to. Big Johnny was too busy breaking up fights in the bar beside the brothel. You walked home shakily. Tommy called the brothel earlier to tell you that he couldnât make it tonight because of some gang business. It was fine, of course. So, you went to the market to buy some supplies. You just didnât know that he would be there. Â
You were waiting for someone to pick up the phone, biting your perfectly manicured nails.
âWhoâs calling?â a woman asked from the other line. Her tone was snippy, and you knew she meant business.
âHi,â you cleared your throat. âIâm looking for Tommy Shelby?â
âWho is this?â she asked, confused as to why a woman would suddenly call Tommy in such a manner. She was used to Tommyâs girls calling, an embarrassment usually hinted when they spoke. But this new girl had no shame.
âIâm a friend of Tommyâs,â
âTommy has many girlfriends. Youâre going to have to be specific,â she said, intrigued.
âOh, of course,â you said. You told her your name. âIs he there?â
âTommy!â you could hear her voice call. âSome girl is on the phone for you!â
âWhat, Poll?â he asked, scowling.
âPick up the phone, Tom. Your friend is asking for you,â she said, passing the phone to him. She didnât leave the room immediately, sitting on the nearby chair instead to listen in.
âTommy Shelby,â he says, and you breathed a sigh of relief.
âTommy,â you whispered. âHe was thereâŚhe was there.â
âWho, love?â Tommy asked. Polly noticed how his voice softened, how his stance relaxed. âDo you need me there?â
âHe was one of my customers before,â you forced out. âHe was alwaysâŚrude and rough,â you choked. âI hate this fucking job, Tommy. I fucking hate it and he treated me like an object today just because he paid for my services years ago,â you sobbed. âIâm sorry. I know you were busy but I fucking hate it,â
âShhâŚitâs okay, love. Itâs okay. Iâm going over there, and you could tell me,â he said. âWill that be alright?â
âIâyes,â you nodded, wiping your tears hastily. âI got some of your favourite fruit from the market today. Didnât know you have an expensive taste,â
He chuckled softly.
âIâll see you, alright?â he asked. âKeep the doors locked. I have my copy,â
âOkay, Tommy. Stay safe for me?â you asked.
âOf course.â Tommy put down the phone until he heard you end the line. He sighed and went to go get his coat until he saw Polly with an eyebrow raised. âFuck, I didnât see you there,â
âWho would? You were too lovestruck to notice anything,â she teased. âThatâs the girl youâve been seeing?â
âWeâre friends, Pol,â he clarified.
âSheâs the girl from the docks, then?â she asked. Tommy nodded. âFuck, thatâs rough. Sheâs a whore,â
âDonât,â he said, an edge to his voice. âDonât call her that. Iâm trying to build something for all of us, Pol. For her. She hates her jobâŚshe fucking hates it and I canât do anything about it,â
âYou donât have to save her, Tom. You canât save everyone,â she said but she knew that Tommy was stubborn. Everything that sheâll say will fall on deaf ears.
âItâs all her,â he said, clearing his throat. âIâll get her out of there if itâs the last thing I do.â
The walk to your place was unnerving. Thoughts swarmed in his head. If he only had it in him to murder the man who dared to look at you. Heâs never made peace with how you earned your money, but he still happily showed up after every shift. You never talk about your customers, and he didnât like to ask.
âTommy, youâre here,â you greeted. He could see how swollen your eyes were; how red they were.
âOf course, I am,â he replied. âAre you okay?â He hangs his coat on the coat rack and walks towards the couch where you were seated.
âI am now,â you sniffed. âIâm sorry for making you worry but this jobâŚpeople reduce me to such an object. I didnât even know his name, you know?â
âI know, love.â he said, his heart beating inside his chest. What was it? What was the beating?
âTommy, Iâm going to make a request. Itâs absurd and we havenât done it yetâŚâ
âWhat?â he whispered, unsure.
âCan-can you hold me?â you asked. âYou donât have to butâŚI have no semblance of what itâs like to be loved anymore. I want to pretend. At least for tonight, somebody out there loves me.â
âYou donât have to pretend,â he said. âYouâre my friend. Of course, I love you.â
You only smiled, snuggling closer to Tommy. You were his friendâŚonly a friend. How else would he look at you differently? You still had to pretend because the love that he was willing to give was not the love that you were looking for.
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1911
Multiple knocks on your door woke you up. Someone was screaming your name outside and you felt yourself panic. You took the gun that Tommy gifted you last year and crept down the stairs. You opened the door slowly to reveal two menâone older and one younger. The younger one had a smirk playing on his lips while the other looked panicked.
âWho are you?â you asked, tightening the gun behind your back.
âArthur Shelby,â the one with the beard replied. You nodded. âIâm Tommyâs older brother. This is John,â
âWhereâŚwhereâs Tommy?â
âHe asked us to come get you,â John replied. âWe mean no harm.â
âWhat happened to him?â you asked. âCome in,â
The brothers entered your house and watched you lay your gun on the table. An unspoken threat.
âTommyâs not in a good place,â Arthur replied. âWell, heâs asking for you. Heâs having theseâŚepisodes. I donât fucking know what thr fuck theyâre called but sometimes, he calls for you when he shuts down,â
âIt's even worse today,â John added. âOur mother died,â
âOh, shit. Iâm sorry,â you said, offering a small smile. âWill you let me dress better? Iâll come with you,â
You met the brothers outside of your house, your gun secured on your skirt.
âAre you Tommyâs whore?â John asked as you walked.
âJohn!â
âIâm not his fucking whore,â
âSo, why is he always at the brothel by the docks?â he pressed.
âWe met when we were kids. Your dad used to visit the brothel with him,â you shrugged. âI never understood why your father took him there all the time. Itâs a dangerous place,â
âWhy were you there?â
âMy mother worked there. I was born there. I grew up there,â you shrugged. âTommy was my only friend growing up. Your father stopped coming but Tommy still managed to show up,â
âI see,â Arthur replied. âYouâre the girl who gave him toy horses when we were kids, then. He never let us touch them. Even now, he has them lined up on his wall,â
âYeah, I was. I gave it to him a week after my mother died,â you recalled.
âIâm sorry for calling you his whore,â John said. He realised now that your relationship with Tommy was deeper. It was more meaningful than he realised.
âItâs okay,â you let out a small smile. âItâs a fair assumption,â
Minutes of silence passed by, and your group stopped in Watery Lane. Youâve never been in his house before; you never had the time to do so. You were also quite ashamed to show yourself. How could you prove that you werenât after Tommyâs money if that's exactly what you are after men?
The door of the house opens, and you assume it was Polly. The same woman who you talked to on the telephone before.
âHeâs in his room upstairs. Last door to the left,â she said.
âThank you,â you rushed to where Tommy was. You didnât bother to stay and eavesdrop. You were there for Tommy. You knocked on his door slightly.
âStay the fuck away from my door or I will kill you,â he shouted. You cracked the door open slightly.
âItâs me, Tom,â you said. He rose from his bed and rushed towards you, flinging his arms around you. He pulled you closer. âHi,â
âSheâs dead,â he murmurs against your hair. âMy mumâs dead. My dad left. I didnât even like him, you know? He always hit the three of us. I thought it would be better if he just fucking left but my mum died because he left. Now, I donât have her.â
âIâm so sorry, Tommy,â you said. You knew he was still struggling after his father left many months ago. He was shaking in your arms, trying to grasp you tightly. Trying to be closer. Â âIâm so sorry,â
âIâŚI donât know what to do,â he said. âYou never got to meet her. Sheâd love you; you know?â
âThat makes us even,â you saw a small smile on his lips. âIâm here now, Tom. You could rest,â
âYouâll still be here when I wake up?â he asked meekly, like a child.
âIâll be here,â you nod, caressing his cheek softly. He nods, yawning after he evened out his breathing.
âShit, love. Iâm so tired,â he yawned again. âLetâs both go to sleep. We deserve it. Iâll see you when Iâm awake?â he asked, adjusting your position on his small bed.
âIâll see you,â you confirmed, snuggling closer to him.
-
âTommyâs playing a dangerous game,â Polly commented from downstairs. It has been met with no resistance.
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1914
âGood afternoon, Pol,â you smiled. You were invited for Sunday dinner, and you decided to bring cake from the bakery that Tommy liked. Youâve only met them last year, but youâve become such an integral part of their family that people knew you were closely associated with them. Even Simon.
âOh, you didnât have to bring cake,â she said. âWeâd rather you spend it somewhere,â
âItâs alright,â you said. âI wanted to do something nice,â
âKeeping Tommy levelheaded is nice enough. Seriously, what did you do?â Ada asked, chopping the vegetables. She was reluctant at first but now, she couldnât go a week without ranting to you. Girlsâ night is what she called them.
âI donât know,â you chuckled. âMay I help?â
âIf you could kindly chop the carrots, please,â Polly said. You set yourself and rolled your sleeves, peeling the carrots first. âTommy and the boys went out for a while. They said it was some business with the Blinders. While theyâre out, how are you?â
âOh,â you nodded. âMe?â
âOf course. Ada has been talking my ear off about some guy sheâs so secretive about,â she scoffed.
âIâve been working less,â you confessed. âIâm helping out on the counter. Helping Big Johnny with the money and the accounts. I work a few times a week now. Simonâs been frequenting the brothel and well, you know what Simon does. It helps that he doesnât stay long. The brothel pays me for my assistance. I can buy you cake every week now,â
âDonât do that. Finn will be spoiled rotten,â Ada says. âBesides, you deserve nice things for yourself, you know,â
âI know but I canât help it,â you said with a soft smile. âI like doing nice things for you,â
The boys soon come through the door, spilling with laughter. Tommy makes a beeline towards you as soon as he spots you.
âHow was the afternoon?â you asked, bumping your hips with him.
âIt was good,â he said. âFinn got into a fight with some kids, and we had to deal with it.â
âIs Finn okay? I brought cake.â
âJust a bruised ego,â he chuckled. My favourite?â
âOf course,â you said. âBut letâs pretend that itâs for Finn, alright?â
âItâs always for Finn,â he groans. âHe has you wrapped around his finger,â
âHe does. Heâs such a charming kid,â you praised. âWhere is he, anyway?â
âTaking a bath before dinner. You have me for now,â Tommy said. âCan I sleep at your house later?â he asks in a softer tone. Heâs been sleeping at your place ever since last year. He said you make him sleep better.
âYou know itâs never a problem,â you said. His presence made you feel safe. He made you feel secure. âWill we leave together?â
âYes. Iâd like to sleep as soon as possible,â he says, dropping his forhead on your shoulder. You only chuckled. âIâm so tired. So, so tired,â
âWho are they fooling?â Ada asked in whispers. âAre we sure theyâre best mates?â
âTheyâve insisted on it for years,â Arthur shrugged. âI donât think theyâre aware,â
âI donât think so either,â John says. âBut Tommy throws a fit whenever she has to meet that Simon prick. Calls him a rich bastard.â
âHe is a rich bastard,â Ada nodded. âShe says he just came into his inheritance. Ammunitions,â
âShit. She hit the jackpot, then,â John commented. âWonder how thatâs gonna go?â
âThereâs nothing to wonder, John,â Arthur says. John could only nod his head.
-
You stumbled inside your house around half past midnight. You were both quite tipsy, having drank Polâs stocks of wine. The Shelby Company Ltd. has been gaining more popularity now, along with the Blinders. Hell, Tommy even posted two Blinders to guard you. âFor when Iâm not around,â he said.
âPolâs going to kill me for giving Finn too much cake,â you giggled, leaning on him.
âI reckon youâre banned from Sunday dinners,â Tommy jokes, taking his shoes off. He takes note of how youâre dressed today. âYou know you can remove all the fucking things on your body right? RougeâŚthe jewels. Whereâd you get them? Is the rich bastard buttering you up?â
âI like it. Dressing up makes me happy,â you frowned. âIâm allowed to like nice things, right?â
âRight,â his jaw ticked. It should be him who's giving you these giftsâŚshowing you a lavish life. He hated it. âLater?â
âLater,â you nodded. âWhen Iâm banned from Sunday dinners, you wouldnât let me be left out, right?â
ââCourse not,â he shrugged, pulling you to your bedroom like he owned the place. You didnât mind. You were happy to see that he was comfortable in your home. âYouâre my best girl.â
âThatâs what you say to your horses,â
âYouâve got really good horse sense and youâre always on your high horse,â he says, peeling his coat away. He was rummaging in your chest now, looking for clothes he might have left until he settled on a simple white shirt and pyjama pants.
âYeah, yeah. You and your horse wordplay.â You entered the bathroom to dress down. Just like Tommy, you settled in his shirt and pants. They were more comfortable than singlets and you certainly didnât want to make Tommy uncomfortable.
He was already waiting for you on the bed when you came back. He pats the space beside him. You obliged. You were looking into each otherâs eyes with small smiles, Tommyâs finger trailing down your arm absentmindedly.
âIâŚâ words died in his throat before he could get them out. âIâŚâ
âWhat is it, Tom? Are you okay?â
âIâll get you out of here,â he rasps. âIâll get you out of there and I wonât let you work a day in your life anymore.â
âTommy,â you sighed. âI canâtâcanât leave this job. Itâs all I have,â He tightens his arms around you, afraid that youâll ask him to let go.
âI know but once I come back from the warââ
âThe war?â you asked, removing his arms around you. âWar?â
âWe enlisted,â he clarifies, trying to gauge your reaction. âOnce I come back, Iâll be so fucking rich. Iâll have you. Iâll keep you and you wonât have to lift a finger. Weâll live in a mansion and have servants. Just like what we used to talk about,â
âTommy, youâre going to war?â you asked, standing from the bed. His eyes watched you settle down shakily on the single chair by the bed. âFuck. Youâre going to war. Youâre going to leave me,â
âNo, love. Come on, Iââ he grunts, sitting up from his relaxed position.
âItâs war, Tommy! They change peopleâŚI donât want to lose you; do you not get that? Are you not happy here? Is that why you're throwing your life away?â
âIâm not throwing my life away,â he says, a frown. âWeâll be drafted one way or another because weâre poor. Might as well do it now than be forced. Some of my men will still watch over you every now and then. Theyâll still make sure that youâre safe. Weâll send letters. Alright?â
âLetters,â you scoffed. âAnd what if the letters stopped coming?â
âDonât say that, please,â he begs. âIâm doing this for all of us. The business will be handled by Polly and when Iâm back, Iâll make it even bigger. Alright? You have to trust me,â You didnât even want to ask about the business. You didnât want to ask why more men wore peaky caps. You didnât want to ask what the Shelby Company Ltd. really was. Not now.
âI know you will, Tom,â you said. âBut Iâm scared. For the first time since Iâve known you, you wonât be here. Iâm scared,â
Tommy lays his hand on your shoulder. Words he couldnât say lingered in the air. Iâll marry you once I step foot in England. He didnât know what else to say; didnât know if there was still something to say. So, he kneels before you and makes you look at him. You were crying. So afraid, so alone.
âIâm sorry,â he says.
âWhen will you be leaving?â
âI have two more days,â he says. âWill I still see you?â
âYes, of course,â you said. âYouâll come back for me?â
âOf course. I have a picture of you already in my pocket. I have to make sure to come back to you,â he said. âand everyone else, of course.â
He fishes a necklace from his pocket, his motherâs locket.
âHere,â he said, showing it to you. It was one of the last pieces of jewellery she owned. âMum gave it to me. You know Iâve always worn it. I want you to wear it now. Think of it as a loan, yeah? Youâll give it back once we see each other again,â
âTommy, Iââ
âI want you to accept it. I want you to see you wear it now. I want to see you wear it before I leave. But most of all I want for us to stay the same,â he says, holding you and kissing your hair softly. You couldnât push him away. Youâve longed for this your whole life. To be held, to feel loved. Itâs all youâve ever wanted.
âIâm sorry. So, so, so fucking sorry.â
âI donât think youâre wasting your life away,â you cleared your throat. âIâm soâIâm so proud of you and your bravery. Iâm so proud of you but I canât be fucking happy for you. I donât want to wake up every day knowing that youâre not here. I donât want to have to guess if you were alive or not.â
âI am,â he promises. âIâll be alive. Iâll come back as your Tommy. JustâŚwait for me, alright?â
You clung onto Tommy two days later by the train. He whispered that he would come back. He said that he will make sure of it. He breathes in the smell of your hairâroses. He envelopes you in his arms once more and turns to leave, never looking back. You knew, in your hysterics, that if he comes back from the war, the same old Tommy you used to know would never be.
PART 2 PART 3
TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtiusâ @trixie23â @everythingelseisextraâ
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you write fwb!james letters. you don't see each other in most classes and thanks to james don't pass each other in the hallways either because of that you slip him letters other ways. when you are in the same class you go past his desk and slip a note under his unopened textbook. you'll transfigure your notes into different things, over time james has gotten use to having things turn up in his bag that he swears he doesn't own before he realises it's you transfiguring different things and he swears every time you make it your mission to transfigure it into weirder and weirder things, he won't know how to explain it if someone ever saw a muggle garden gnome in his bag.
every time he reads your notes he has to make sure he's alone and no one will come in and interrupt him, not just because they're notes from you but also because said notes make his trousers tighten and his cheeks red, thinking about all the things you wrote to him and imagining what he'd do if you were there with him.
"i saw you in charms today and you looked pretty, i wanted to drag you out of the classroom and kiss you until our lips looked swollen and we have to separate to breathe." james thought you looked pretty that day too.
"i went to see your quidditch game. you're actually pretty good. your hair was even more messy than normal though." when james read that he flung himself on his bed, holding the back of his hand to his forehead, grinning. you don't like quidditch. you came anyway.
"when do you think we'll see each other next?" soon, he hopes.
"i think i'm starting my period, my breasts are tender :( you're always good with your hands." the implications makes his head fuzzy. he'd absolutely look after you, he'd touch you gently and make you feel better. he'd hug you softly if you'd let him and do anything that'll help you feel a bit better.
"can you touch me in history of magic again?"
"some information that you might want to know: i'm on birth control."
"next time i see you i want to give you a blowjob. you didn't take your shirt off last time but you have to next time, it's not fair."
james mumbles, "you're killing me" under his breath.
he can't bring himself to ever throw the letters away, they're from you. he sometimes reread the letters late at night while jerking off and thinking of you and the things he'll do the next time he'll see you. he doesn't regret keeping the letters... he doesn't... that is until sirius found them at least.
opening up one james' drawers next to his bedside table he finds your letters to him, curiously sirius glances at the first note and a cocky smirk appears on his face. sirius picks up the whole pile of letters and waves it in the air. "prongs," he says in a singsong voice, "what's this?"
james looks up and sees his friend holding up the notes you've sent to him. he panics but he hides it well, looking away back at the marauders map where he was previously spying on filch.
"i've been fucking with snivellus. i've been sending him love letters." he keeps his tone as even as he can, sirius can't know they're from you.
"this isn't your handwriting james," he replies still smirking.
"anybody can change their handwriting sirius." james says still looking down but he hasn't been paying attention to the map as soon as sirius found the letters.
he doesn't say anything for a second until, "fair enough." sirius plops down on the bed next to james looking over his shoulder at the map. "why didn't you tell the rest of us though?" sirius questions suddenly as he just thought about it.
"didn't think it was that important." james doesn't know if sirius will believe him so before sirius can think it through james starts talking about their quidditch game coming up.
sirius has no reason to doubt james in the end and even gives him ideas in the following weeks to write to snape. he'll have to be more careful next time with hiding your notes, he still won't throw them away though.
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FEELINGS MUTUAL - ( c.s. )
summary- you and chris, a d1 lacrosse player, have been good friends since freshman year. he accidentally hurts your feelings one night while youre hanging out, and things escalate as heâs apologizing.
warnings - itâs smut (use of ma included oop) so PLEASE read at ur own risk, if u donât like it keep scrolling cuz idgaf đ¤
bff!chris x fem!reader
a/n: this is my first one shot on here AHH! iâll probably be writing more so if you have requests or ideas, pls send them my way xoxo
âi still donât understand how you predicted most of that within the first thirty minutes.â chris shakes his head, arms crossed as he leans back against the headboard casually.
âi told you, iâve got it down to a science. all scary movies are practically the same.â you shrug, clutching a pillow to your chest as you lay in his bed.
itâs late now, or early. youâve been watching movies together all night, just like you usually do during slow weekdays where neither of you have to be up for class, or in his case, practice.
âi wish you didnât insist on watching them all of the time.â he says.
âaw, is little christina scared?â you tease him with a small grin.
âi hate when you call me that. and nothing about me is little.â chris kicks you with his foot gently, and you nearly roll off of the bed trying to avoid the contact.
âgross.â
âwhatever, youâre the one thinking about my dick.â
âi absolutely am not.â you argue, though you feel your cheeks flush.
âkeep lying.â
you lift an arm out to smack him in the bicep, and he just laughs. âstop flirting, you slut.â
âif i was flirting, youâd know.â chris smirks, running a hand through his long hair.
âyou think you could rizz up the babadook?â you ask, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him properly.
âoh for sure.â
he doesnât hesitate before saying it. he even nods his head a little bit in certainty.
âsomeoneâs confident.â you laugh.
âcâmon, i could rizz anybody up.â
âyou havenât managed to do it to me, and weâve been friends for two years.â
âthatâs because iâm not trying to.â
for some reason, this stings a little. chris is a bit notorious for getting around, though itâs not really his fault. as a d1 lacrosse player who also happens to be very attractive, girls come falling at his feet.
youâre just not one of them, and he clearly doesnât mind. youâre not sure why you even care.
it just makes you feel weird, that youâre the only girl heâs not attracted to for whatever reason. like youâre defective or something.
âright. i forgot youâll hit on every other girl in the world, just not me.â your voice comes out more sour than intended.
chris looks a bit surprised, eyebrows raising slightly at your tone. âbecause youâreâŚyou knowâŚyou.â
âwow, you really know how to make a girl feel good, huh?â you roll your eyes before turning to lay facing the other direction.
a hand snakes its way to your waist, a familiar sensation that still makes butterflies erupt in your stomach regardless.
âyou know i didnât mean it like that.â
you bury your head further into the pillow, trying to ignore the way his thumb is tracing circles against your hip. âwhatever, chris. i get it.â
âyou clearly donât, because youâre all pissy now.â he sighs, breath tickling your skin.
âno iâm not.â
âyes you are.â
âi just want to sleep.â you lie.
chris fully wraps his forearm around your stomach now, tugging you so that your back is flush against his chest. he buries his chin in the crook of your neck, and you canât help but smile slightly to yourself.
âall i meant is that youâre not those girls. youâre too special.â he says quietly into your ear.
you bite down on your lip to try and keep the grin from growing.
ânow youâre just humoring me.â
he shakes his head slightly, stubble scratching at your shoulder in a pleasant way. âiâm not and you know it.â
youâre actually thankful youâre in a tank top, because having his warm skin on yours is nice. youâve never felt it before, and it kind of makes you nervous.
âdo i?â you question.
âyou should. youâre the only girl who can get me to watch horror movies with her. the only one who sleeps over, or gets to steal my hoodiesââ
âoh please, i know you gave that bitch maddy your sweatshirt. she wouldnât shut up about it for weeks.â you cut him off.
âokay, she stole that from me and now she wonât give it back, so thatâs different.â chris shuts you down quickly.
âif you insist.â
you shift slightly in his arms, and you hear him suck in a breath as you get comfortable.
âdonât do that.â his voice is strained.
âwhat?â you ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
âdonât move like that.â
âiâm not allowed to move now?â
ânot when your ass is on me.â his grumbles, and you finally get it.
âoh.â
your response is abnormally high pitched, and youâre not sure what else to say. youâre too terrified to turn even in the slightest.
âwhoâs scared now, huh?â
you swear he must have gotten closer, because you can almost feel his lips hovering by your earlobe as he speaks. the smile is prominent in his tone.
heâs teasing you, and it spurs a fire in the pit of your stomach that youâve never felt with him before. you maneuver your body, and this time you purposely back your ass up against his lap.
you hear him let out a small groan that vibrates against your body, and it nearly makes you shiver.
ânot me.â you give him attitude, though youâre practically breathless.
âhave you really thought this through?â chris asks, pressing up against you so you can actually feel how hard he is.
youâre already pulsing, and his fingers dance back and forth across your stomach lightly. even with your shirt as a barrier, itâs too nice.
you nod in response, and his hand slides up your arm and over your shoulder, fingernails barely raking against your skin as he goes. chris grips your throat, and you push against him for some sort of friction, for anything.
âtell me you want it.â he demands, squeezing just a bit harder.
âyou want it.â you manage to taunt, grabbing his arm and guiding it down your chest to the bottom of your shirt.
his hand slides underneath the tight fabric, back up your stomach, traveling to massage your left tit slowly. his thumb ghosts over your nipple, and you arch your back into him involuntarily.
âfuck.â you gasp quietly.
âno bra, huh? just for me?â
chris twitches against your ass, attaching his lips to your neck hungrily. his tongue slides against the sensitive skin, teeth digging into the flesh where your throat meets your collar.
his hand switches places, and he drags the pads of his fingers across your other nipple in a tantalizing pattern. the sensation of his touch and his mouth at the same time is bliss, and you let out a moan of pleasure.
âalways wondered what you sounded like, you fuckin angel.â he praises, grinding his hips against you.
just feeling his length, pressing right against your core through the fabric of your yoga pants, makes you incredibly wet. heâd be shocked to find youâre not wearing underwear either.
you guide his hand back out from underneath your shirt so you can flip over again, sitting up slightly as you move to straddle him. heâs already bucking up into you, whining from the feeling of being underneath your hips.
âdonât tease me. iâve waited too long for this.â chris pulls your arm down so he can give you an actual kiss.
his lips are soft, molding against yours desperately as his hands grip your ass. you rock against him as his tongue slides against yours, and he groans into your mouth.
âgod, i love hearing that.â you admit against his lips.
you pull away so you can lift his shirt over his head, trailing your long manicured nails down his chest slowly, right along his happy trail. he throws his head back against the pillows, relishing in the feeling.
you can tell heâs growing frustrated though, and suddenly he grabs you by your waist, throwing you down so your back hits the mattress.
chris helps you out of your top like itâs a race, tossing it to the floor with his other clothes. he positions himself over you, capturing your lips with his hungrily.
you bring your hands up; one tugging at the curly strands of hair on the back of his neck, the other clawing at his back.
he likes this, smiling into you before biting down on your bottom lip harshly. chris pulls away, pressing kisses down your throat, down the valley of your chest, but not without moving his tongue back and forth against each nipple at least a few times.
it makes you writhe, hands tangling in his sheets as he continues.
âjesus, chris.â youâre basically whimpering.
he stops right at the top of your leggings, looking up at you from between your thighs like heâs asking for permission.
you lift your hips as an answer, and he tugs the slick material down over your feet. the air hits you, and you can feel how embarrassingly ready you are.
chris lowers himself to you again, pushing your legs apart with both palms.
âyouâre so pretty, ma. so fucking wet for me, too.â he mumbles, kissing and nipping at your hip, down your inner thigh, right next to where you need him most.
ma. heâs never called you that before, and you like it way more than you should.
without warning, he slides his tongue flat against your pussy in one long stripe. his lips come down around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against it slowly.
âholy shitââ you gasp, and your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging at his roots as he buries his face further.
youâd been given head before, but it never actually felt good until now. chrisâs fingers grip your thighs as he continues to force them apart, tongue moving up and down against your center at a faster pace now.
you can feel the pressure building, but you know you want more. you want to make him feel good too.
âoh my god baby.â the pet name slips out without even thinking, your head is so fuzzy with pleasure.
âfuck, call me that again.â he pulls away just enough to speak coherently.
âi need you inside me, baby, please.â you beg desperately.
âso ready for me, so eager.â he practically growls, sitting up so he can yank off his sweatpants, tugging his boxers down with them.
his dick is just as big as it felt, definitely the biggest youâve seen in person, which is a little scary. he puts a hand to your mouth, turning your head to the side slightly.
âspit.â
fuck, this is hot.
you happily do as your told, and he pulls his hand back to spread it around his dick. his other arm goes to prop your one leg up as he aligns himself at your entrance.
chris pushes in slowly, and you both let out a long moan at the same time. you can feel him stretching you, and it takes a minute for you to adjust to his full length.
âfuckâŚâ he says in that breathy voice you love so much.
he moves out, then back in, steadily picking up his pace as you get more comfortable. you have to give it to him, the kid knows how to use his hips.
âmmmâŚyou feel so good around me,â chris grumbles, lifting your leg a little higher.
he hits a new spot, and it sends delicious waves of pleasure through your body.
âyes, right there!â your eyes screw shut, and his free hand goes to reach for your tits.
âfuck ma, i can feel you squeezing. taking it just like a good girl.â
such a pretty mouth saying such dirty things, things you didnât think youâd ever in a million years hear from your friend. and yet, it feels exactly like it should.
heâs practically pounding into you now, and the little noises he makes drive you crazy. his free hand shifts so his thumb rubs against your clit, and you feel your core seize up.
âchris!â you cry out, and that damn smirk crosses his face again.
âtell em, angel. tell them exactly who you want.â
his fingers feel so good combined with his strokes, and this time the building pressure in your stomach is too much. you know you donât have a lot longer left as your body begins to shudder.
âfuck, chris, iâm so closeââ
âjust a little longer, hang on for me.â he says, movements growing sloppier as he reaches his own peak.
his nails dig into the skin of your thigh, a bit of pain that is not unwelcomed. chris circles his other fingers around you faster, and you let out an even louder gasp.
âiâmââ
âfuck, me too. come on baby, come all over me.â he cuts you off, and you feel him twitch inside of you as he finishes with a groan.
âshit!â you ride out your own high, releasing onto his dick as he slows to a stop. youâre both completely breathless and sweaty as he pulls out, and you immediately feel at loss.
he leans down to give you a little peck before collapsing beside you.
âiâve seriously dreamed about that so many times.â chris says, arm splayed across his chest as he stares into your eyes.
you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. âstop it.â
heâs quiet for a moment, and you peek through your fingers to look at him.
âyou know this means more to me, right? you mean more to me.â he speaks softly, like heâs scared of how youâll react.
you finally reveal yourself again, smiling more widely than youâd care to admit.
âgood, cuz the feelings mutual.â
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(totally not being self-indulgent rn) carlos seems like he'd be such a good listener with reader!girlfriend. she'd be the kind of person who's so quiet but chances are, when they're alone and he's got her curled up in his arms, she's going to talk about is whatever's happened in her latest read. he'd just be so patient with her and just listen to her ramble on. and sometimes, after a bad weekend, the one thing that can calm him down is her voice and her stories
this was so cute and i had to write something on itđĽšthank you for sending this in!đŤśđ˝
.
It almost felt poetic to have a shitty ending to a shitty season, but it didnât make him feel any better about the whole weekend.Â
He was pissed. He was pissed when the tires started to feel shit. He was pissed when his race engineer kept reassuring him that they would pit soon. He was pissed when he was called into box at the last laps and practically gave up what was already a shitty position. He was fucking pissed when he ended the last race of the season in P18.Â
He tried to grin and bear it. He took pictures with the team, he went through the debrief, he celebrated Charles finishing P2. He tried to just pretend like it wasnât bothering him, like it wasnât bubbling inside him just waiting to burst and blow up in his face.Â
He had feigned exhaustion and a headache, leaving the club far earlier than anybody else even if it was at around one in the morning. He had stumbled into his hotel room, dragging his feet and even though he had only had a drink or two, his body felt like it was already on the brink of a hangover.Â
He pulled off his clothes and fell back onto the bed, his eyes falling shut but sleep wasnât an option for his racing mind. There was only one thing he wanted, but it was miles away and the mere idea of it made his chest feel like it was caving in.
So, he did the next best thing.
âIf this is a drunk call, just know that I will be using whatever you say against sober you.â
Carlos felt the tightness in his chest ease as your voice sounded through his phone, his eyes falling shut as he let out a hum. âYou always do.â
âYou seem tired.â There was a pause, and he could almost imagine the adorable pout on your lips. âDo you want to talk about it?âÂ
âNo,â he answered honestly, because he didnât want to talk about it. He had spent the last few hours constantly talking about it: in debriefs, in interviews, in conversations with other drivers. He hadnât stopped talking about his shit race and the fact his whole strategy was relying on a probability of a safety car happening, and now he just wanted to forget it ever happened. Even for a few minutes. âI just wanna hear you talk.â
âHear me talk?â
âYeah, I saw you finished another book,â he commented, a vague memory of a notification popping up on his phone at your Goodreads account being updated. âTell me about it.â
âStalker.â
He snorted. âHow else can I know which books to buy you?â
âIâll never finish my TBR! I donât even have enough space for all the books you buy me.â
âThen Iâll buy you a library, amor,â he hummed, his body sinking into the bed. âTell me about it. What happened? Who do we like? Who do we dislike?âÂ
There were a few beats of silence before you gave in, before you began rambling about characters and plots and little things that irked you enough to make you rant away to your boyfriend.Â
He listened with a smile, just taking in the sound of your voice and your enthusiasm as he reminded himself he would have you in his arms in less than twenty-four hours, and this season truly would be behind him.
.
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Hello, Duchess
Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Ariâs P.O.V.
âCanât believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.â Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. âFuckinâ wild.â Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.
âMust not do much business.â He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, heâd probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.
In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasnât Ariâs first rodeo â not by a long shot. Heâd spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bellâs Creek, which was part of the reason he couldnât wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: âsorry, weâre closedâ.Â
Well, that couldnât be right.Â
He couldâve sworn that when heâd pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts sheâd said heâd be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lordâs day.Â
While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail.Â
Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. âHello?â He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.
Just in case.
âIs anybody here?â He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But whatâs most impressive is that there doesnât appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. âLook, I just came by toââ
âWeâre closed!â A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store.Â
âYeah, I saw the sign, maâamâŚâ He clears his throat. âBut I think you forgot to lock the door, so I ââ
âThat means get out!â
âSo much for southern hospitality.â Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. âMaâam, I just wanna talk. And maybeâahh shit!â He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. âSorry!âÂ
âDid you just break something?!â The voice suddenly screeches. âDonât make me get my taser.â
âThereâs no need for that.â Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. âMy name is Ari Levinson, and Iâm just here to ask you a couple of questions.â
While this isnât how the man had expected any of this to go, heâs relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since heâd seen you last.Â
Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.
Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.
Your P.O.V
âPretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.â You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but youâd be lying if you said you werenât at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read.Â
âI can assure you thatâs not what this is.â The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you.Â
And although you try not to stare, itâs impossible to miss just how big they are â how rough they seemed â with just the right amount of callus. You canât help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh.Â
âThen what is it?â You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him.Â
If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right?Â
âAs I said, my name is Ari Levinson. Iâm a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.â He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. âI just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didnât necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.â
Fucking Martin Westbrook. Heâd been the bane of your existence ever since youâd first crossed paths back in high school.Â
âI know youâre looking for Martin.â Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. âBut Iâm not quite sure how much help I can be.â
You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else.Â
âIâm sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.â Heâs quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. âProvided youâre honest, that is.â
âDid you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?âÂ
âI meant no offense.â Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think youâd just managed to fluster the poor man.
Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. âAs you can see, I have a busy dayâs work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.â You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. âSo if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.â Â
âGladly.â He gives a brief look around. âIs there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?â
âIâd say here is about as good a place as any.â You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. âIâm pretty confident in my ability to multitask.â Â
Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. âWhen was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?â
You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you couldâve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brandâs products always smelled.Â
âI donât know.â You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. âMaybe three, four weeks ago.âÂ
âDo you happen to recall the day and time?â
âNo. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, Iâd guess sometime around the 5th of last month.â You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.
âYou sure about that?â You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye.Â
âAs much as I can be.âÂ
âAnd did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?â
âNope.â
Heâd been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time heâd come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked.Â
âDid he give you his reason for leaving?â
âWe didnâtâŚâ You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot thatâs marring the wood. âThere wasnât really much time for talking.â Youâre so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunterâs eyes narrow as he studies you. âHe just stopped over to say goodbye.â
And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand â to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.
âRight.â Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. âNot a lot of time for talking.â He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. âNot sure why I didnât wanna believe them.âÂ
âAm I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?â You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs.Â
âI guess Iâm just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.â He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. âIn my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women theyâre fuckinâ.â
In that moment, itâs almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?
âExcuse me?â Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. Youâre so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.   Â
Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger heâs just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, theyâd apparently neglected to mention that youâd also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team. Â
âApologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But Iâve never been the type to beat around the bush. BesidesâŚâ The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. âYou have to know that people in this town like to talk.â
Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you mightâve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.
âI want to make one thing very, very clear.â You hiss once youâre finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. âI have never â not even once â slept with Martin Westbrook. Heâs a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.âÂ
âI get the feeling I struck a nerve.âÂ
And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because heâd lost a buddy of his own a little while back.Â
âAnd I think itâs about time you got the hell out of my shop.â His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that youâd managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal.Â
Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.
âLook, Duchess. I apolo ââ
âThatâs the second time youâve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And Iâm not sure I appreciate it.â You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. âNow, Iâve been nothing but amenable to your ratherâŚinvasive questions. But weâre done. So, Iâm gonna have to insist that you leave.â
Before you decided heâd make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts.Â
Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height â an impressive 6â4 â so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you werenât so angry youâd be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy.Â
But not now.Â
Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinsonâs sculpted ass walk right out your front door. Â
Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you donât speak again until Ariâs hand is on the handle.Â
âFor what it's worthâŚâ He blows out a weary breath. âThis wasnât how I meant for this to go.â His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them.Â
However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going.Â
âItâs justâŚthe idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like WestbrookâŚâ He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. âI guess it bothered me more than I realized.â
His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain youâd regret later:Â
âAnd just what do you mean by that?â You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.
âAll Iâm saying is that youâre out of his league.â Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ariâs lips curve in a faint smile. âAnd if you didnât know that before, well, now you do.â His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck.Â
âGuess Iâll see you around, Duchess.â You donât have to see his face to know that heâs grinning. âOh, and donât forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors youâve been havin.â
Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.
ENDÂ
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For old times sake (pt.2)
(Huskerdust x platonic! Male!overlord reader)
I'm really happy with how this turned out. Non of y'all asked for it the idea just hit me so I had to write it downđ
ALSO
I'm VERY likely going to write a pt.3 thats an Alastor x male reader so lemme know if ya'll would want thatđŤĄđ
Warnings: V@lentino
Art by the very talented: @dragon-spaghetti
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You were having the best time. Talking to Husk and Angel was very fun and you saw the amazing chemistry they had. You guys were talking laughing and drinking in your office when suddenly Angels phone started to get bombarded with messages.
You felt the sudden shift in atmosphere. Angel hurriedly reached for his phone and when he saw the messages he jumped up.
"It was nice to meet you (Y/N) I had a lot of fun and thank you for the drinks but I have to go now, Husk baby I'll see you at the Hotel don't wait up for me if I get home late."
He said, with one breath and quicker then you have seen anybody talk and left with the same speed.
"Shit..." said Husk as he stood up with a sigh to pour himself another drink.
"What was that?" You asked baffled.
"It's...its his job, his boss he is... a fucking cunt"
Said Husk with audible anger in his voice.
You were about to ask more questions but then it hit you. You knew angel was a porn actor. And you also knew about the Vees. It was easy to put the picture together from this point on. And judging by Angles terrified reaction, Husks anger and cussing you could quite easily tell how his boss treated the spider.
"Hey, Husk" he looked at you with tired eyes.
"I have an idea." You said at last with a smirk on your face.
-------------------------------------------------
"HAHH, suck it idiots, guess who was invited to a business meeting by THE (Y/N) Demon of gambling." Yelled Valentino as he entered the Vees break room.
"What. The. FUCK, give me that" said Vox pissed as he tore the invitation from Valentinos hand.
"THAT BITCH, why did he invite you and not all of us."
"Never mind that who the fuck sends messages via letters?" Asked Velvette disgusted.
"This is the way the big shots do it, you uncultured swine" said Valentine still very full of himself due to the invite.
"That doesn't make ANY sense" Vox has read the invitation at least 3x by now not understanding why you invited only Valentino.
The Vees have been trying to get in contact with you for years now but to no avail. You had no interest in any alliances since you thought them to be stupid and egoistic, if overlord meetings were something to go by.
"Deal with it honey, I'm just better than you guys" ended Valentino the conversation as he snatched the letter from Vox and blew the pink smoke from his cigarette into his face.
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Valentino showed up to your casino with Angel by his side dressed in...well, almost nothing. Of course he wasn't gonna show up without a pretty thing by his side and who better than his favorite toy.
"If you embarrass me in front of the demon of gambling I'll-" he started saying through clenched teeth but got interrupted. By you.
"Mr. Valentino, it is such a pleasure to meet you." You started as you put your hand out to shake.
He shook your hand slowly. He was surprised to say the least. One of the most powerful overlords was this young, not to mention very hot. When he got over his surprise however his personality was back and on FULL display for you. He turned on his charm like never before and started shamelessly flirting with you.
You just kept the calm smile on your face.
"So, Mr. Valentino I'm sure you are wondering why I invited you and we will be having a business meeting do not threat however I'm afraid I have something else to take care of first, please go ahed and try out the games my casino has to offer and drink something, all the drinks are on the house for you."
Now, in a situation like this normally Valentino would be offended. How dare someone invite him and then say they have something else to do.
But you were different. You were a very powerful person in all aspects, your goddamn charm, it was just irresistible not to mention the free drinks.
"Well all right but do not keep me waiting for long now, amor." He said with the ever present flirtatious tone in his voice.
You didn't react to this, just a simple nod of your head and with that you left.
Valentino hasn't gambled much in his life, or death, he just stood by when Vox did it, so he sat down by a random table.
He won. To his (and Angels) biggest surprise, he won.
"Oh, yeah, this is going to be a good night. ANGEL, bring me another drink."
This was just the beginning of the night. He continued to go around table by table, and he won, by every single one of them. And the more he won the more he drank.
About two hours after he arrived one of your employees came up to your office.
"It's time sir I think he is drunk enough." Said your guard. So, you put down the book you were reading and stretched. You didn't have anything to do, that was just a lie. It was just part of the plan.
When you arrived downstairs you saw that your employee had been right, Valentino was standing on the table singing and kicking the coins he had won.
You cleared your throat.
"Mr. Valentino, I'm glad you're enjoying my casino" with that one sentence you got everyone's attention in the room.
You could have that effect. You weren't a cruel overlord and didn't choose to rule over people by the means of fear. But you could make it so that even just your voice demanded respect.
"I see you have won quite a lot, would you care to play a round against, me?" You said ever so calmly.
And of course drunk and full of himself due to not loosing once all night, Valentino was more then happy to play with you.
"Now then, since we are playing in the big leagues now we cant just play for money thats below us don't you think."
"I'd like to be below you, handsome" he answered.
You just hummed, unamused.
"I say, how about we play for souls."
That caught Valentino off guard, he didn't think of that, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of you so he agreed.
"And...whose soul would you be offering? I heard the demon of gambling doesn't own anyones soul" said Valentino with just a bit of temptation in his voice.
You hummed.
"You heard correctly, I'm in no need of souls, I will be offering...my own" you said still as calm as ever.
To that Valentine spit out his drink. The amount of power that would be in his hand if he owned your soul is...too much for his drunken mind to think about. And of course due to the amount of alcohol in his system he didn't think about how stupid this proposition would be on your part if you weren't 100% sure you would win. He didn't even think about the fact that you are the demon of gambling, the owner of a casino, it would have been obvious to anyone that he had no chance at winning.
"Well then, I'll offer the soul of this beautiful thing here" he said while squeezing angels cheek.
You looked at Angel and said
"Very well then, let the game begin.".
After a few rounds, you were loosing. Big fucking time and Angel was starting to get very worried. But not only him, Husk, who was the whole time as well, making sure the plan goes well, was starting to doubt you two. He knew first hand just how good you were especially in poker, but it was still a game that depended on luck at least 50% of it.
When Valentino needed a break to go puke, Husk walked over to you.
"Kid, just what the hell are you doing you are aware that you're loosing." He said pretty pissed off.
"Oh, I'm just messing with him-"
"Well stop, what if you mess too close to the sun you might be good but you cannot control your luck."
"Luck is a non factor if you use logic. You seriously think a porn seller, money hungry, moth man big shot wanna be will beat me, in Poker? Don't insult me." And with that Valentino returned and the game continued.
He kept winning rounds and Angel and Husk were growing more anxious by the second.
Finally the last rounds were coming around and thats when you decide you messed with him enough. And just like that you started putting down winning hands one after the other.
Valentino was panicking. He is about to loose his best paying costumer whatever you come out with this round everything depends on it-
Royal Flush.
You fucking won the game.
Now that the loss has sobered his mind he could finally look at all of this in a logical way.
Of fucking corse you won. You are the mother fucking demon of gambling just how the hell did he think he could win.
But the wins before. Hold on. That was illogical too, NO ONE goes to a casino and wins every fucking time was he really that drunk not to notice.
You broke him out of his thoughts when you snapped your fingers. And Angels contract that bound him to Valentino appeared in your hands.
However now, where Valentinos name used to be, stood yours.
"Well, Mr. Valentino that was a very productive business meeting I hope to never see you in the future"
"...What?" asked the moth angrier by the minute.
"You still haven't figured it out? I do not care for you or the other Vees business. Did it not seem suspicious that I only invited you? What am I saying of course it didn't, because a narcissist like you would never ask why someone wants their company. See, thats why tricking you was so easy. Getting you drunk wasn't even necessary I only did it so I can be sure that you will play for angels soul."
"...but, but...NO, Angel dust is still mine, he-" Valentino went to reach for Angel but Husk stopped him.
"No he fucking aint." Hissed the cat.
In panic Valentino tried to make the leash appear but to no avail. A deal was a deal. He doesn't own Angel's soul anymore.
"Just why the FUCK was it so important to you to get a wretched whore's soul?" Asked the moth now yelling.
"It was a favor for an old friend."
"You mother fucking- do you know who the fuck I am, I will destroy you me and the Vees-"
"No" you stated simply.
This was the last drop for Valentino.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN NO-"
"I would like to ask you to leave now Mr.Valentino and, please tell your partner not to send me any more invitations, I do not care"
Valentino made one last attempt to attack you but your guards stopped him.
"I was winning all night you dickwad I sucked your casino dry" tried to irritate you Valentino.
"Oh? Thats right here, isn't this one of your coins?" You threw it at him.
"Of course, every coin has two sides."
Valentino turned the coin around to discover a big fat 0 at the other side.
"What-"
"You really thought you won at every single table? Wow, you are even stupider than I thought."
It was part of the plan, you told everyone who worked at the casino wherever Valentino sits down, he wins, at least coins of zero. You needed to boost his confidence so he'd think he can beat you.
"You will not take him away from me I'll find him-"
"You will do no such a thing he belongs to me now so he is under my protection." You were getting a but pissed now, he just wouldn't give up would he?
He was about yo say more when you looked at him. Dead in the eyes. Thats half the reason why you are as powerful as you are. The look. If you looked someone deep in the eyes they will see their worst nightmares playing right in front of them.
Valentino started screaming, crying and shaking uncontrollably. And with that your guards dragged him out.
You turned to Angel and Husk, who were standing there holding hands.
You looked at Angel, lifted the contract, and tore it in half right in front of him.
Angel was staring at you. He stared as tears started to roll down his cheek and he fell to the ground in sobs.
'I'm free' he thought to himself over and over again. Husk chuckled as he knelt down to his boyfriend and hugged him.
You two locked eyes, and you understood just how thankful he was, words weren't needed.
You wanted the couple to have some privacy so you headed back to your office.
Unbeknownst to you another demon was present that night at the casino, and he saw the whole ordeal.
"How well you grew up to be, young (Y/N)" chuckled Alstor to himself.
"(Y/N)" you heard Ang- Anthony yell from behind you.
You turned around with raised eyebrows and looked at him.
"THANK YOU" he yelled still sobbing.
You smiled at him.
"Happy to help, for old times sake."
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Harvey x Stalked!Reader
Warnings: Reader is being stalked (unknown stalker).
Can be read as platonic or romantic :)
âIf you want to hang out in my apartment, thatâs okay with me. I live above the clinic.â That was one of the first things that Harvey said to you when the two of you became closer.
He would often say that if thereâs anything you need, to just come to him or wait for him in the clinic/his home.
You never expected to have to take him up on his offer, however, but life works in mysterious ways.
You never knew how it happened, perhaps it just built up over time, but one day, you realised that you had a stalker.
It started off small, a message here and there, somebody sending flowers to the farm.
Before long, it turned into you seeing a hooded man around the town. Everywhere you went.
You never asked anybody about this out of fear of seeming odd and scaring off your friends. Or maybe it was the fact that telling somebody would make it seem real.
It was nearing 10pm when you were walking home from the mines, passing by the Saloon.
You almost missed it, the hooded man behind you, a devious smirk on his lips.
The moment you saw it, your footsteps hastened, as did his.
His hands were shoved in his pockets, fiddling with something which only sparked more fear at the unknown.
Having already passed the Saloon by now, you didnât know where else to Go. Pierreâs was closed, the farm wasnât far off, but you really didnât want to be alone.
That was when Harveyâs words ran through your head about staying in his apartment.
You knew he was at the Saloon now, but he had given you a key that you always kept on you.
It seemed like the only logical thing to do, especially considering that Harvey would be home in about 20 minutes.
So, with hastened steps, you pulled out the key and entered the clinic and headed up to his apartment, praying that your stalker would leave once you locked the clinic door.
As you sat on Harveyâs couch, leg bouncing, you didnât know if you had crossed any boundaries. Sure, he had told you that you could, but what if he was just being kind?
Too caught up in your own anxious thoughts, you didnât hear the door click closed and a soft call of your name.
âY/N?â Harvey repeated, placing a worried hand on your shoulder.
You flinched at the unexpected touch, tear-filled eyes facing his concerned face.
âI-Iâm sorry!â You stuttered âHe was following me again; I didnât want to be alone.â
Harvey shook his head slightly, grabbing a blanket from the chair beside him and placing it over your shoulder.
âWho was following you?â He asked, watching as you snuggled into his blanket before taking a seat beside you.
âI donât know. Heâs been following me for months.â
Harvey sighed, awkwardly placing a hand on your shoulder in a comforting manner.
âYou can tell me anything, Y/N.â He said, which is how it all ended up spilling it.
The messages, the flowers, the threats. Everything.
Harvey never spoke a word as you explained, only occasionally making a noise to let you know that he was still listening.
Once you were finished, he nodded and devised a plan.
âTomorrow, weâll report this, and you can stay here until it is sorted, okay?â
Shaking your head, you refused.
âI donât want to intrude.â You reasoned, only to fall silent at the stern look he gave you.
âYou could never intrude, Y/N. I told you my apartment is always open to you. I care about you a lot.â Whilst his words made him blush, Harvey knew that you needed to hear it.
You thought for a moment before nodding in agreement.
âThank you, Harvey.â You smiled for the first time in a while, pressing your body into his own and wrapping your arms around him.
He blushed, hesitating before returning the hug.
âYouâre welcome, Y/N.â
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John Constantine x tattoo artist?? Smut or no (you choose!) I think it would be cute if john gets his tats from the reader (also kind of a possessive/marking quality there lol)
John Constantine x Tattoo artist male reader
Headcanons
Sorry thereâs been no posts this week, classes have started up again, so as you can imagine Iâm exhausted and have a lot less free time. Iâve been using most of my free time to read JJK, ngl.
Imagine being a magical tattoo artist, something like a seal maker. You do large complex and beautiful pieces, but you hide different seals and protection markers inside the patterns. It keeps the real purpose of the tattoo a secret, but is also pretty to look at.
John already has tattoos in the hellblazer comics, but imagine you giving him different ink. Something a lot less obvious and more attractive.
It makes him pass as a hot blonde British guy covered in a lot of fancy ink, instead of some brit with lotsa weird cult looking tattoos.
John becomes one of your most common customers, mainly because a lot of the tattoos you put on him disappear after the seals been used, since its all defense and storage. He might also use it as an excuse to see you more, so he can flirt.
John being John, would get a tattoo right above his crotch, think like a reverse tramp stamp, or a succubus tattoo, just so he can have you sitting between his thighs as he gives his flirting his all.
You definitely end up railing him within an inch of his life in the tattoo chair, tsking and âpunishingâ him for straining the tattooed area too much, and âmessing up your workâ when he writhes too much.
In the beginning its just a friends with benefits situation, something like a âhappy endingâ you might say. John wouldnât be someone to do relationships for the most part, since most of the ones heâs been in havenât ended great.
He subconsciously also wouldnât want to paint a target on your back, since hes always involved with all kinds of stuff. But he cant help but always find himself back with you, getting some new seal inked onto his skin.
And if every visit ends up with him bent over the tattoo chair, or down on his knees to âthank youâ, then who will judge him.
John would end up finally acknowledging his feelings when you save him from his big bad of the week, using your complex and intricate tattoos to pull out weapons and spells, and later seal the being thatâs after him.
Its hard to deny how he feels after that, and though he wouldnât put it into words, he would act differently. Like just showing up at your parlor to spend time with you without getting anything done, or sending you little protection charms or trinkets.
At some point you guys just start kissing and acting like a couple, without actually putting a name to it. Itâs a dangerous life you both live, and words mean everything, so you never tell anybody you guys are lovers, since that would make the target on you both even bigger.
It doesnât keep you guys from pretty much living together and acting all domestic, or being completely exclusive to just each other. John turning down all advances made on him confuses people in the beginning, until they just come to accept it.
John ends up with even more tattoos, these a lot more complex than average useable seals. These are the kinds that you have spent your entire life developing, and had only used on yourself because theyâre that powerful.
The league are knocked back by how powerful his spells have become, and how much damage he can withstand. Only other magic users with the knowledge know just how amazing his tattoos are. He never tells them where he got them, just because heâs an ass.
You end up helping out more with his business, and he ends up being free advertisement for your parlor. Of course, no one gets tattoos like you or John, you would never give a possible enemy that kind of power, but it helps pad your pockets quite a lot.
Johnâs enemies end up targeting you as well, but theyâre easily dealt with for the most part.
He ends up getting teased be friends and allies that heâs getting soft and domestic, cuz he doesnât go out to bars like before, and wants to be home in time to watch a movie with you, or just go to sleep together.
He ends up a lot less stressed too, since you rock his world whenever he needs it, and become someone he can let down his defenses and just be vulnerable with.
In the end he probably gets pavloved to get in the mood when you tattoo him, or he hears the noise of the tattoo gun. John always blames you for making him this way, because you always go down on him after giving him new ink, not that heâs complaining.
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Okay! Ik ur not talking request rn but Iâve had this thought for a lil bit but rafe w hs Teacher!reader, who he likes to visit during her lunch time aka study hall time, and the students adore him and like since itâs hs the girls like find his so attractive( bc mf is) đ¤
okay this request is SO self-indulgent for me bc i'm like a year out from becoming a hs teacher myself like AH that's the dream so i love you so so much for this whoever you are i could give you the biggest hug rn thank you so so much for this idea!!
study hall - r.c.
pairing: husband!rafe x teacher!reader
wc: 1.6k
tags/warnings: fluff and almost nothing else. rafe is a perfect boyfriend bc,, duh? also not very canon of him honestly.
requests currently closed but feel free to send stuff in! it just might take me a while to get around to it :)
nav/masterlists
"Okay that's the lecture, we've got about a minute before the bell here... does anyone have any questions?" You finish up your slides, checking the time briefly as you close up the powerpoint from your laptop and turn off the projector.
A couple of hands shoot up and you gaze over the class waiting briefly for anymore. "Okay, we'll do Max, and then Lacy. Fire off." You point to the two of them in order.
"Can we get an extension on the essay?" Max asks quickly and you laugh. "It's not due for another week! How can you be behind already?" Judging by the reaction of the rest of the class chattering off their agreement, you nod. "Okay, okay. Fine. Yes, you can hand it in on the Monday instead of Friday, but that is giving you two extra days so I won't be giving any more extensions. Got it?"
Collectively the class sighs in relief, a chorus of thank you's and chatter following. "Okay, Lacy, you had a question?" You interrupt everyone to ask, thinking maybe someone else might have the same question and want to hear the answer.
"Is Mr. Cameron coming to study hall today?" She asks, round cheeks flushed as the other girls in the class whip their heads towards you to listen.
"Okay." You laugh, sitting down in your chair content that you won't need to pull up any slides to revisit anything. "Thank you for reminding me, I do have study hall today so if anybody does have any serious questions about the lecture or the essay please hang around after the bell." You say, avoiding most of the question.
You hear the voice of almost every girl in the class speak up at once, all resulting in more or less the same question about whether or not your boyfriend would be coming again to eat with you like he usually does on Fridays.
He was very popular among the girls you taught, which doesn't surprise you. You'd be lying if you said your boyfriend wasn't ridiculously handsome, but it was sometimes a point of contention with the other faculty you worked with. They thought it was extremely unprofessional that he would come in just for the girls to ogle at- but strangely it wasn't a problem when they had their partners come in for lunch at the same time. You knew it wasn't your fault and you weren't doing anything wrong, but just a result of upset from them designating study hall for students and many girls would spend time in your class instead during the lunch hour.
Just then the bell rang, and many students began packing up to leave either to go to other classes for study or to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.
"Alright! Don't forget the readings for next class, please, I may or may not be quizzing you on it just to make sure! Have a good day everyone!" You call out over the loud sounds of students filling the halls and talking.
You sigh with a smile and grab your water bottle, taking a sip to ease your dry throat after an hour of non-stop talking. You look up, humming in acknowledgement at the three girls leaning over your desk. "Question?" You ask, already knowing what they're after.
"Is Mr. Cameron coming?" Lacy's friend, Chloe asks and you smile, shrugging.
"Maybe, you'll have to stay for my study hall to find out."
"Come on just tell us!" Lacy groans, but before you can respond you're interrupted by a knock on your door frame.
"Ms. Y/L/N, I brought your lunch." You smile at your boyfriend standing at the door, lunch bag and coffee in hand.
"Hi." You chuckle, looking at the girls knowingly who already look like they're melting. You get up and greet him at the door, grabbing another chair to pull over to your desk for him to join you.
âHi Mr. Cameron.â Lacy smiles, sitting down in the desk closest to yours and batting her lashes at him.
âHi there.â Rafe says politely with an awkward smile, digging through the lunch bag he brought for you and handing you snacks out of it.
âGirls, go get your lunches, please.â You tell them, and they all somehow simultaneously roll their eyes.
âYou just want us to leave so you can be alone with your boyfriend.â Chloe teases you and you laugh, shaking your head.
âNo, I want you to go get your lunches so you can give your bodies the nutrients they need to learn. Iâm not going to be held responsible for you girls missing meals.â You reply sincerely before taking a sip of your coffee. âAnd I promise, Mr. Cameron will still be here when you get back. Now, go.â
You gesture to the door and the girls sigh, getting up and filing out the door.
âYouâre the only reason I ever have anyone in my study hall.â You giggle quietly once theyâre gone. âThere are no girls in study hall on Monday or Wednesday.â
âNo way, Ms. Y/L/N is their favourite teacher, obviously.â
âOr my class is the hardest and my very hot boyfriend comes to eat with me during Friday study hall.â
âYour class is easy!â Rafe laughs, reaching up to brush away some hair that stuck to your cheek as youâre eating.
âYouâve never taken it, how would you know?â
âWell, if you were my teacher when I was in school⌠Iâd be in here every day. âThe boys donât come on Fridays because theyâre jealous of meâŚâ He says smugly, leaning in to kiss your cheek.
You blush as you playfully push him away, glancing towards the open door to make sure no students saw. âYeah, youâd be in here because youâd need help with Shakespeare, and they do too.â
Rafe gasped in mock offense, then shakes his head. âThatâs messed up. Iâm offended.â
You shrug. âItâs tough stuff if youâve never read it before.â
âWeâre back!â You both look up at the door as Lacy and her friends make their way back in, lunches in hand this time. âDid you miss us?â
âWelcome back, ladies. Did you bring some homework with you?â You ask, raising an eyebrow at them.
âDuh, Ms. Y/L/N. Who do you think we are?â
âI just wanted to make sure. Study hall is for studying, not chatting.â
They all get comfy in their seats around the desk across from yours, phones immediately out with no work to be seen.
âHey, Mr. Cameron?â Chloe asks, leaning on her upturned palm as she grabs his attention and he hums in acknowledgement. âWhatâs your first name?â
âRafe.â He answers, not thinking for a second that maybe itâs not allowed.
âThatâs a great name. Like, really cool.â Lacy sighs, smiling at him.
âWhy, thank you.â Rafe grins, nudging your shoulder. He eats this attention up every time, and itâs fun to joke about when youâre at home- but sometimes you think itâs bad for his ego.
âCan we call you Rafe?â
âIf you want.â He shrugs.
âNo, nope. Heâs Mr. Cameron to you, sorry to disappoint.â You chuckle.
âBut he said we can call him that!â Chloe whines, looking at you pleadingly.
âSure, but the school board says otherwise. As long as weâre on school grounds you donât even know his name, got it?â
âYes maâam.â They agree, giggling to themselves. âItâll be our secret. Scouts honour.â
âNone of you are scouts!â You laugh.
The girls just look at each other and shrug.
By now other students have filtered in, and luckily with tests coming up in all your blocks, a lot of studying is actually happening and less harassing of your boyfriend.
âHey,â Rafe whispers, leaning closer to you which draws the attention of the girls in the front row who are straining to listen. âCan we take the yacht out this weekend? Maybe go for dinner or something on the mainland?â He whispers, smiling at you hopefully.
âYeah, that would be nice. We could make a weekend out of it, I donât have much grading to do.â You agree quietly and he seems excited, smiling and patting your leg before returning to his book that he had just picked up off your desk to skim through while you ate.
Come Monday morning, youâre getting ready for the bell to ring to signal the start of the first block. Once your whiteboard is ready with the notes for the day, you smile to yourself in anticipation as you sip your coffee. The bell rings, and students are quick to make their way in and to their desks.
âOh. My. God.â Lacy stops in her tracks at the door, holding her arms out in front of her friends on either side of her as she stares at the whiteboard, and then looks over to you. âYouâre joking!â She almost screams, clapping excitedly and running up to your desk to examine your hand while all the other students look up to the board in confusion, hoping for some answers as to what Lacy and Chloe are squealing about.
On your board, you had changed your name in the corner to a short statement:
âYou can call me Mrs. Cameronâ
taglist: @rafeoccasionally , @bookishbabyyy , @madelynie , @whore-4-drewstarkey , @slut4drudy , @winterrrnight , @totalswag , @sadfury , @fullfledgedemo , @rafemotherfuckingcameron , @urfaveluvr , @chenslucy , @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea , @tahliac11 , @saccharinesammie , @ietss , @maybankslover , @redhead1180 , @suzyheartsrafe , @wpdailyminimeta , @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly , @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron , @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles , @flonkertn , @whtvrrafe
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