#i just think it says a lot that valerie is wearing it too
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So What’s your Valerie’s fashion style? What brands would u say she’s into? What does she like?
My Valerie's Def on the more sporty/athletic side. She's a very active person even before becoming Red Huntress so she likes anything that's both easy to move around in but also look good doing so.
Def into athlesiure, sporty girl aesthetic. Her top brands are basically like Adidas, Nike and Lululemon. LOVES getting the latest sports shoes and fitness wear 👟🎽🏋♀️🤸♀️ fun fact her shirt and shoes r meant to be based on Adidas and Nike fashion!!!
Doesn't really do delicate or long fabrics as she prefers things that are very endurable and not slow her down. Wouldn't do things with too many layers or anything poofy👗
Also doesn't do big or dangly jewelry, will only wear things close to her body and wont hit her or fall off easily. Wears things like studs, small hoops, small chain necklaces and close bracelets like scrunchies and a smart watch! The scrunchies are good for when she needs to put it up and used her smart watch often to keep track of herself during her exercise and fitness training💎⌚️
Her main color(as an ✨️A-lister✨️) is gold✨️. For my A-listers Im giving them a main monochromatic color scheme, Paulina wearing mainly pinks and Star wearing mainly coral colors. Likes gold as it's a great color pairing with her skin tone but also because it's a flashy color and gives of rich and high status vibes💲🪙 also likes wearing orange as it pairs well for gold along with white🧡🤍
She was also very conscious about keeping the style feminine as to match Paulina and Star's vibes and while not as glittery or dazzly, kept to the flashy style they have with the jewerly and bright clothes✨️
Even after the whole incident and not being an A-lister anymore, I imagine she still tries to look her best, not really because of what others think but more for a self respect thing. Wouldn't be as worried about looking flashy anymore and more focused on just looking well put together even without the expensive brands or flashy jewelry she'd use to dress up in.
And for her makeup usually keeps it to eyeliner and lip balm, won't really do things like fake eyelashes, eyeshadow or lipsticks that just smear, have to re-apply alot or sweat off during her exercising. Plus the balm helps keep her lips from getting chapped. Also doesn't do arcyrilic nails, only nail polish and would usually match it with her lipbalm💄 wears a lot more red lipbalms after becoming the Red Huntress, lol.
What do u think? How would u want to dress Valerie? I'd love to know💖
#danny phantom#valerie gray#dp valerie#dp asks#valerie grey#red huntress#dp headcanon#dannyphantom#dp a listers#a listers
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I froze, horrified, as the bus kept coming, squeezing my eyes shut and tensing at the last second.
...And then I was dreaming about words on a page, editing the same paragraph of a fic over and over and over and over and over.
Well, that's what I got for frantically working on a fic all day long to try making the upload date.
I didn't remember publishing the chapter.
I snapped my eyes open and sat up.
How far did I get before drifting off?!
...Huh?
...I was in a forest?
I now felt the hard ground beneath me, as I looked uncomprehendingly at the scenery around me, drawing an extended blank of where I was.
...Where had I been working on my fic? I didn't remember where this place was at all.
...I remembered thinking of going to the wooded park near my house after leaving the cafe...
I'd brought my new mini clipboard with me, with some blank paper and what I had of the chapter printed out half-sized. I'd made a lot of revisions in pencil and had gotten a little stuck on how to continue the chapter, before deciding to give myself a change of scenery.
But I didn't remember actually arriving at B ———.
I did remember leaving J———, though, with my latte in my right hand and the clipboard tucked under that arm as I worked on putting my change away, left arm fumbling with the chained billfold I always wear on my right side, as I walked.
I'd glanced up as I reached the street, and, not seeing any movement on the road for once, ran across.
Though my clipboard fell, so I spun around to hurry and get it before a car were to come.
And that's when I heard the motor of a large vehicle. I looked up from where I was squatting to see the front of the Redline.
I inhaled sharply. Before tucking my head between my shoulders and tensing for impact.
I searched my current surroundings with new focus.
Where was the bus?!
And why wasn't I in the hospital or something?
And... I felt metal against my wrist as my hand flinched along with my panicked thoughts.
I looked down to see my clothes faintly glowing. And there was a glove on my hand..?
I unconsciously moved my arm as I focused on it, pulling a chain along with it.
A stumbled footstep in the leaves snapped my eyes to the side. The handcuff chain was connected to a complete stranger? An annoyed-looking black girl?
She was wearing a strange outfit. Almost costume-like with the matching gloves and boots and skin-tight fabric and metal pieces, but it was made in such a realistic way that it looked perfectly normal. But it also looked familiar somehow, like I almost remembered seeing it before but couldn't place it. Where would I have been in order to see an outfit like that?
"If you're done with your beauty sleep, we should get moving." She raised an eyebrow. "If you still want me to fix my tracker?"
That voice! I looked the girl over closely, head to booted toe. "...Valerie?" I flinched at the sound of my voice.
"Don't get any ideas, spook. This is strictly business. I'd never be interested in some ghost who thinks it's fun to ruin everyone's lives."
I opened and closed my mouth, stunned.
That's my words. (Which still felt too contrived.)
This was...
I turned away from her to again scan the scenery.
An average-looking forest. Though with a little fire damage from what appeared to be a recent explosion.
...This was my fic.
I looked down at myself again, pulling my chin up against the base of my neck (did I feel bristly hair on my chin?) to get a view of the white logo on my chest; turning to find and dislodge the cape I was sitting on. Playing with the edge of the cape as I stared ahead of me, unfocusing my eyes.
...What do I do about this?
"Why're you acting so goofy? You hit your head too hard or something?"
I drifted my eyes toward her, still unfocused, staring at two of her.
...Should I say yes? It seemed like a good opening. Maybe the only good opening.
Otherwise I might never find a way to tell her and would just keep it hidden throughout the whole story.
But... how did I phrase it, even with the opening?
She needed to know Phantom lost his memory.
But what could he say that would make her figure it out?
...It had been easier in the fic.
"Phantom, come on. I've been here waiting over an hour for you to wake up. Now—"
"I–" I flinched again at the voice. That was going to be so weird. "I think I have amnesia."
"What."
"...Maybe?" My voice cracked on the high note.
---
based on this fic: Deadly Evasions
and this post by @tozettastone: you are personally and directly hit by a bus
#asj post#asj writing#DE self-insert au#...I wanted to write it down? And it took until close to 3am?#'Isekai'd by bus to the world of my fanfic' sort-of-prompt thingy#real-world parts roughly based on real events haha#danny phantom#(he thinks like me in the fic anyhow so I would end up acting similar to him even accidentally haha)
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My thoughts about the V for Vendetta movie:
I actually wish they didn’t do the romance thing. This is the part of the comic I found refreshing: It was more of a twisted mentor/student thing. The comic had Evey take on the mettle of V at the end, which I think has a much better ring to it.
LOOK HOW THEY MASSACRED MY CHILD. I actually hate how the whole point of the movie was that “there’s a man under the mask.” That… That’s exactly the opposite of what the comic was saying. The comic’s assertation was that anyone could be V, and while the movie tried to do that too (with the ending scene with all the civilians wearing the mask), the comic did a much better job of this by literally making V a seemingly hollow figure. A figure that Evey takes on at the end, becoming the new V.
They took away a lot of key points of the twistedness of the government officials. In particular: The Chancelor’s scene where he realizes the god-like figure he’s been praying to, and in love with, is actually V manipulating him from the start. I wish they kept that. Like it sounds boring when I summarize it but it was legit one of the most shocking parts of the comic
VALERIEEEEEEE. Ok so I’m glad they had the guts to actually keep her in the film (and give her the screen time she DESERVED)… Even though she still died. Well, it’s ok: I like to think V is Valerie but putting together pieces of their life after losing it due to the amnesia inflicted by the facility, by reading a letter that they actually wrote.
The movie was stunning. Like the cinematography, everything.
I do like how the movie put a lot of focus into how the Chancelor rose to power, and the parallels between that and WWII-era dictators, as well as various political extremist groups (the intense xenophobia, the militarism, etc).
EVEY. So I miss the comic interpretation of her… So, so, much. The reason for this is sort of similar to why I didn’t really like the Live Action Mulan… They tried to make her too strong from the start. Even though she kept saying she was a coward, she still ended up fighting back, she still knew her politics and culture (despite the government censures), etc. I actually miss her old character because she was average! She was normal! She was just as brainwashed as everyone else! Just thrust into extraordinary circumstances. The movie put way too much focus on her parents and how they affected her… I think the main drawing point of Evey was that in the comic, her parents are barely mentioned, and she’s… Well.. She knows nothing. She IS nothing, but by the end she’s literally a badass anarchist or something. I just think that THIS version of Evey is more uplifting, instead of the tired trope of “following in your parent’s footsteps”
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Happy Birthday ! — 03/06 | @fairyofkalos
"...Wha— Mache, there's no way I could possibly accept this! It’s way too..”
diwata sputters out upon seeing what exactly his dear friend had decided to gift him . a whole fucking dress . . tailored just for him . not to mention that it was pretty , too .
much too pretty for him to wear . it just wouldn’t suit him .
"Too what, dear?”
the gym leader of lavarre , valerie ( or perhaps , personally known as mache to diwata ) , simply smiled cheekily in reply . . which made diwata briefly thought of violence . sibling instinct , he thinks dumbly to himself , having gotten used to having another annoying , older sister . it wasn’t his fault that he saw valerie as an older sister figure , but it more or less . . situated herself into that role , especially when it was always so kind and understanding to him .
hell , fai had also been the one to give him his florges , meringue , as a means of looking out for him when fai can’t .
the trainer bites his tongue , considering his words carefully . while he appreciated valerie’s hard work , he was still . . unsure of accepting such a gift . he knew it was bad manners to not accept gifts , but just recieving them in general always made him want to cry . . especially when it was something that clearly had a lot of thought put into it .
he never did do anything to deserve such nice things , after all .
“It’s too.. nice. I don’t think I could—.. Where would I even wear this?”
upon catching the disappointed look in valerie’s eyes , diwata almost immediately felt like slapping himself . arc , if there was one thing he hated , it was not being able to please his loved ones others . he couldn't stand seeing the displeased look on valerie's face .
"Don't be silly. You could wear this anywhere you'd like, lita. It doesn't have to be used only for a particular occasion."
"Easy for you to say! You wear your kimono like— everyday.. or at least, every time I see you. It looks like it weighs a ton."
valerie merely giggled in reply , pushing up her glasses so it didn't fall off the bridge of her nose . this was one of those rare moments where diwata could see her real eyes like this , a remarkable hue of dark pinks and purples .
he could never understand why people would make rumors of her being a fairy . they just had a habit of wearing strange eye contacts , that's all .
"Well, you're correct. 33 pounds, to be exact~! It functions as being both comfortable enough for everyday-wear, yet stylish."
valerie seems awfully proud of that , before pausing . . looking to be deep in thought . diwata briefly wonders where they even store their pokéballs . . inside her sleeves , maybe ??
"Hm.. How about you try it on, at least? And then, I'll make adjustments accordingly to suit your tastes. It'd be such a pity to have a gift put to waste if the person receiving didn't like it, after all."
diwata opens his mouth , as if to object , before promptly closing it like shut . valerie was still smiling like the delecatty who got the cream , and it only made diwata all the more embarrassed at the idea of trying such a frilly little thing on .
oh arceus , he was dreading the fact that'd have to look at himself in the reflection too . . ack —
"..Okay."
"Wonderful~! You can go change behind that divider, alright? I'll be in the next room if you need anything."
diwata can only nod dumbly as he watches the fashion designer leave the room . . leaving him alone with the dress . that stupid dress .
he never looked good in dresses anyways . . this is so stupid —
and yet , diwata still finds himself drawn to all the lace and ribbons . . laughing to himself about how this would be considered typical fairy - type specialist behavior . oh arceus , he must be a walking stereotype by this point .
. . might as well try it on , if only to see valerie's pleased expression .
oh .
. . oh .
of all the things diwata expected to happen when he put on the dress , he hardly expected that the dress would fit him so nicely . it wasn't tight - fitting , but it was definitely snug on him . . a good fit — like a glove , he'd say .
the dress was adored in all sorts of frills , white yet with visible pink accents . he wasn’t sure what material valerie had used , but he could distinctly make out all the lace that covered the tutu .
frankly , it reminded him of tanghulu's mega evolution form and — oh ! that's the motif then . . mega diancie . how sweet , he thinks . that explained the small train part of the dress then .
although , diwata isnt sure if this would even be considered formal wear . . a dress like this seemed far too extravagent for that sort of thing .
he was so distracted by his reflection — hah . narcissus much ? — that he hardly noticed valerie entering the room again until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder . his body instinctively jolts at the touch , before relaxing just as quickly .
"I look so..."
"Beautiful."
diwata gives a small , hesitant nod . he wouldn't use that word for himself personally . . but , maybe pretty would work . he was just pretty .
"I look like a princess.. one of those— Uhm. Magical girls."
he says with almost nervous laughter , but he beams a little when he sees valerie's pleased smile in the mirror . she was always smiling ( did she ever stop ? ) , but he could tell this one was especially genuine .
"That was the point. I must say, you look absolutely captivating~! Don't you think?"
"..I- I guess. Yeah."
"Hmhm... Any adjustments to be made then?"
"No, no- It's.. perfect."
diwata doesn't smile at his reflection in the mirror , but he does find himself playing with the fabric on the tutu between his fingers . so soft , he thinks to himself . it made him happy to know that valerie also had his comfort in mind when designing this dress . itchy fabrics should be damned to the distortion world .
he hardly noticed valerie had pulled away until she started speaking again .
"Oh, yes— I almost forgot... Ma fée, I have one more gift I must give you."
"..It better not be another dress, Mache."
"Oh, don't be silly. Here, just hold out your hand for me, okay?"
diwata doesn't question valerie further , even if it wasn't in him to blindly trust . he simply holds out his hand obediently , like a dumb swirlix being asked for its paw , and closes his eyes .
something is placed onto his palm , round like a ball yet small . it was almost embarrassing how easily diwata had recognized that the gym leader had given him a pokéball . . but what of its contents inside ?
when he opens her eyes , he gives valerie a curious look , to which fai just smiles at xer like always . no help at all , it seemed .
"Go on, open it."
"..You know you didn't have to—"
"I know. Just open it, dear. I'm sure you'll love him."
diwata simply lets out a sigh , before unlatching the pokéball and opening it . there was a bright flash of blinding white light at first , and then something emerges .
it was . . . a klefki .
#// this would count as . uhm !! a character study and relationship exploration — i think ? (*'▽'*)#// anyways enjoy the sillies :3c#fairyofkalos#tanghulu the diancie#offscreen post#off screen#rotomblr#pokeblr#pkmn irl#pokeblogging#pokeblog roleplay#pkmn rp#pokeblog rp#pokemon irl
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Arlo family lore plspls its beneficial to my health
OKAY SO
so i got another ask specifically about [REDACTED] so im gonna talk abt that in a separate ask
BUT i will tell u abt my ocs for arlos fam (almost exclusively on his dads/valeries side, havent thought abt mom much) and general stuff for them and their relationships w eachother and arlo specifically
OKAY SO
i gave Arlo four older siblings because why the hell not and i can (i will get to the parents later)
also while im thinking abt it, im unsure abt Arlo's last name but im thinking Kingston right now
OKAY ANYWAY
also i just wanna say that when made character names i usually just smash sound together until i find something i like and hope it isnt a slur in another language
so what im saying is none of the names have any relevance or importance i just like their sounds and how they look
the first oc is Mammi (pronounced like ma'am-ee)
hes the oldest of the five of them, as of current uno time hes 25
he/him
amab cismasc
haven't decided sexuality. probably gay bc im gay and i self project too much
anyway he currently works with the authorities and is in a relatively high ranking position
but surprise surprise hes a spy for [ERROR]
(a secret organization :) also has a whole Thing that would require a separate post. a lot of new characters and also some world building. plus it also kind of plays into my bod au/rei fic)
but unfortunately the authorities are all fucking idiots and no one would even think of suspecting him
Valeire is the only one who does (she basically Knows) bc their father (her brother) was against a lot of the things the authorities did
but she has absolutely no proof so she cant do anything :)
fun fact Mammi and the entirety of Arlo's sibling except for Arlo himself all Loathe Valerie
2 of them want her dead
one would actively make an attempt on her life themselves if they ever saw her again
pst psst Mammi is the former
anyway Mammi is Tall (TM)
atm his height is fluctuating between 6'5 and 6'6 bc i cant choose
i just think itd be hysterical if Arlo's entire family on his dad's side were all giants
speaking of that let me take this time to tell you that Arlo is the youngest in his family aside from his mom and Valerie because i thought it'd be really funny
bc Mammi is in the authorities he often wears a suit and let me tell you this man looks fine as hell
not all men can work a suit but this one can
i still havent drawn any of the siblings except for a bit of the next one so my visuals of them are all p vague and could absolutely change but as of now
Mammi has long straight blond hair that roughly reaches his waist
its usually in a low ponytail
he has gold eyes :)
not sure what i want his ability to be yet (obviously a shield variant but what exactly) or how powerful
now for the lovely sister of the family
so the next one is Luss (pronounced how it's spelled)
shes 24 :)
she/her pronouns trans woman
6'4
lesbian
a model who travels quite a lot
long curly hair and gold eyes
always wearing red lipstick
a bit mischievous
her ability is... well its honestly kind of useless on its own
she can make shields that are full orbs but theyre only about the size of a fist
she did find out that they hurt if u throw them at ppl tho, esp if u put stuff in them
not sure what level yet. maybe a flat 6.0 . or maybe even like a 5.9 if i wanna get angsty and make like her family disappointed in her for not being a god tier or smth
very caring about her family
very forgiving person to a fault
strongly believes in second chances
Luss is the closest to Mammi
but she doesn't really feel like she has anyone close to her
(which ends up being a huge bonding point between her and Arlo)
tries her best to keep their family together but it's pretty futile
tries to be optimistic and cheerful and such but it's all an act
would do anything for her family, especially her siblings
sees herself a lot in Arlo for what little she's seen of him
and then we have the twins
as stated above, theyre twins
the older one is Sade, and Kallo is idk like two mins younger or smth
theyre both 21
Sade uses they/them pronouns and is nonbinary
Kallo uses he/they and like. he knows he's masculine but he isnt like a man or male
hes keeping his gender unlabeled but sometimes says its homeboy bc he thinks its funny
tbh im not sure what assigned gender at birth i want either of them to be so im just not gonna choose 🤷
both are 6'4 1/2 or sth
the twins are very separated from the rest of the family they want nothing to do w them
they both dont like Mammi
and hate Valerie
Sade wants her dead and if Kallo ever saw her again he'd lunge
they tolerate Luss and don't dislike her but it's not their favorite to be around her
they don't have any feelings towards Arlo
Sade is a fashion designer and occasionally works with Luss, occasionally
Kallo is a mechanic
originally i had him as a surfer dude but i decided not to
the twins live a long long way away from Wellston and the rest of the family and have no intention of ever going back
theyre both closest to eachother obviously
they both have a lot of trust issues (all of them do) and only really trust eachother
again not sure about abilities
might want Kallo to have some variation of his mom's rather than their dads tho, or maybe a combo of both
i think ill keep Sade w a shield variant
also dk abt sexuality 🤷
i feel like at least one of them would be aro or ace tho. maybe like one is aro and the other is ace lol
ok so now that im done w the siblings
mr dad man's name is Vickaius. hes Valerie's brother. not sure if i want him to be older or younger.
he has long yellow hair (usually up in a pony tail) and gold eyes
yes im terrible and am making him an attractive dilf you cant stop me i have no self control
if it makes u feel any better i'll probably make the mom a milf too
anyway
i kinda wanna give him a scar or two and/or an eyepatch
def a god tier. some type of shield ability. i think i want him to be like a 7.1
he/him or he/she not sure what i want
tbh probably bisexual but thinks he's straight for whatever reason
6'5-7 or smth
fun fact he's currently in jail :)
the moms name is Ariella and she has curly hair and blue eyes. im not sure if i want her to have blonde or brown hair
i dont have much to say abt her tbh. not bc i dont care abt her but like. in my arlo fam plot while she is relevant and important she isnt like. you dont need to know about her. if that makes sense
i do know that i want her to be exactly a whole foot shorter than Vickaius bc i think its hilarious
context for post: arlo hcs
other related stuff: [REDACTED]
#ARLO FAMILY LORE ?????? REAL????#SORRY I GOT THIS OUT SO LATE THIS TOOK AWHILE TO WRITE I KEPT PROCRASTINATING IT#my posts#unordinary#webtoon unordinary#unordinary webtoon#unordinary arlo#arlo unordinary#oc#headcanons
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1 chapter: New at LA
Julia’s pov:
i’ve just moved with valery to our new house in LA, our manager thought that it would be a good step for our carrer in youtube, since there are a lot of influencers here.
Valery told me that we could go to a party tonight to make new friends in LA.
We got ready, i looked very hot tbh, i had a low rise black skirt with a black top and my hair in a ponytail.
We arrived at 9:30 pm and it already had past an hour since we arrived, it got really boring until i saw the sturniolo triplets. I went to introduce myself
“Hi im Julia, i just moved here from detroit!” i said with a smile.
“HEYYYY IM VALERYYY, IM HER BEST BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLEEE WORLD ” she said with a clearly drunken voice.
“Well hey valery and julia, i’m nick and this is matt and chris” he said happy to know us. “ I think i’ve saw you guys on youtube before” he said with a little laugh.
The five of us talked for a while, but, chris and me wouldn’t stop exchanging glazes, he looked so good, he was wearing a Ransom hoddie with some simple grey sweatpants.
Eventually valery and me went to dance a little bit until a guy i didn’t really recognize started dancing with valery, so i was dancing alone. the triplets were in the sofa just talking, chris saw me alone dancing to “… #Wcw (Remix) - Devvon Terrell” so he started walking towards me so we could dance.
In just some seconds my ass was pressed against his hips and he’s face resting in my neck, my hands in his hair and his hands on my waist. This feeling was amazing, it was the first time a felt so comfortable with someone so fast, or maybe it was the alcohol in my system that was making me act like this.
It was now 11:30 pm and chris and I were still dancing until i saw that my cup was empty.
“I’m goin’ to refill my cup, wanna give me yours so i can refill yours too?” i said with a slight smile.
“Nah i’ll go with you” he said.
When we arrived to the kitchen he leaned on the kitchen island while i opened the fridge to look for some water, i grabbed the first one i saw and I turned around quickly to face chris. I brought my face close to his
“what do you want?” i asked.
“You” he said with a smirk on his face.
I immediately blushed to his answer and didn’t say a word. “So, what do YOU want?…” he asked as he saw me blushing. I was nervous so i just replied with “You”. Oh my god. What had i just said?
“You wanna get out of here to a quieter place?” he said with a seductive voice. I nodded as he was already grabbing my hand to lead me to the guest bathroom.
When we reached the bathroom he immediately locked the door and slammed me against in it. I stared at his lips wanting them to kiss every part of my body.
He immediately noticed my desire for him to be inside me. With no second thoughts he kissed me as if his life depended on it, our tongs fought for dominance, but chris obviously won.
Soon we were both taking our tops off and just letting me with my bra on, as soon as posible he took off my bra and threw it on the floor.
His lips traveled from my neck, to my collar bone, and then my tits, while he put one of my boobs in his mouth he played with my other nipple leaving me a moaning mess.
Chris’s pov:
I trailed my hand to her lower abdomen asking for permission, she simply nodded. I quickly took her thong off.
As my hand reached between her thighs, I began to gently caress her clit, making her squirm beneath my touch. I had my head in her neck, leaving my mark while increasing the motion below.
She looked incredibly sexy like this, her head was leaning back with her eyes closed and jaw dropped while moaning and whimper sounds came out of her.
We were being way to loud, i had to put my hand on her mouth to cover her realizing that if someone heard us, they could think i was strangling her.
Julia’s pov:
Chris continued to grip my thighs as his tongue moved towards my clit. he flicked and sucked it with his tongue, adding to my pleasure.
When his tooth grazed the sensitive bundle of nerves, my hips jolted and he sucked harder.
"fuckkk chris, you look so good". looking down at him, his blue eyes stared right back, pupils blown out with lust.
"you're so good for me, chris."
He moaned in response to my praise, the vibrations making me come undone on his face. without wasting a second, he licked up my juices completely.
Instead of stopping he continued to eat me out, this time adding a finger into me, unexpectedly.
"FUCK-chris, i- i can't, i'm so sensitive" i said.
"You can and you will" he said, moving his face away from my pussy for a second, before diving in again.
"Chris! ohhhhhh my god" my head flew back as he shoved his tongue in my hole, replacing his finger with it.
He moved the finger that had previously been in me to my clit, rubbing in circular motions.
"Holy shitttt, chris" as i came closer and closer to my high, i started to rock my hips into his mouth.
Chris never once broke eye contact.
"chris, chris! i'm so close, so fucking close baby" i moaned, trying desperately to chase my high.
"mmmmmm" he moaned into me, continuing his movements with his tongue and fingers.
"fuck, i'm cumming!" and with that i came all over his face. he licked up my juices, once again.
Chris’s pov:
I left her with her legs shaking, she could even walk. I left her in the bathroom for a second to tell Matt and Nick.
“Guys i’m going to Julia’s house, she doesn’t feel good and i want to live her there safe because she’s a little drunk to drive” i said with in a quickly speed.
Matt just nodded and they kept talking.
I ran to the bathroom to make sure she’s okay, i entered to see her, she couldn’t even put her clothes on.
“Having trouble putting ur clothes on huh?” I said chuckling.
“It’s not funny Chris i can’t walk without falling down”. She said with a slight smile. “But i won’t deny you did an amazing job”
I smirked at myself, feeling proud about what i have just done to her.
“Julia, baby, i’m gonna take you home, you have to rest and your pretty drunk”
“Okay, but your gonna have to help me put my clothes back on”
“Yeah, yeah i’ll do that” i said laughing at her cute exhausted expression.
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hrm… i’ve decided to post a short excerpt from one of my wips. i’ve not had a lot of motivation for fic writing recently and probably won’t have the energy to get back into it for a good long while, and every time i remember the existence of these wips i think abt that one post that’s like, a love letter to all the half-finished and orphaned works out there that got posted even though the authors didn’t like them or didn’t finish them, and… yea. it’s not done and it ends abruptly as of now (since the rest of it is near-incomprehensible in its unfinished state), but it’s decent, and with any luck it’ll make someone happy or scratch an itch or something. so, here you go: about 1/3 or maybe less of a fic which currently doesn’t have a title in my docs other than ‘Bog Thing’. enjoy?
(also this was intended to be in the same universe as eclipsing binary, which i have links for in my pinned post if you haven’t read it. didnt get around to an exact timeline but it would probably be taking place not too long after the end of that fic.)
***
By the time it’s been long enough for Danny to get used to people knowing that he is a ghost (even if that is, in some ways, as much a lie as his previous claims to humanity), it’s been long enough that the prospect of coming clean to Valerie has become both super awkward and also possibly redundant. She’s been giving him Looks, recently - which she had been doing already, of course, ever since he got outed, but now she’s doing it when he’s out as Phantom, too.
He’d had been able to tell when his parents first started catching on to him, even if at first he tried his best to ignore it. Valerie may be slightly more subtle than them, but, well - slightly more than nothing still isn’t really a lot.
Which isn’t a slight against Valerie, or anything, because Valerie is probably one of the coolest people he knows, and yes, that does include when she used to hunt him. But she also seems to think that wearing a visor means that he can’t tell when she’s staring, so…
The staring is it’s own problem. It would be less unwelcome if it wasn’t happening during ghost fights, which have been especially brutal for the past week or so thanks to the appearance of a ghost who can open portals at will. So far, the only positive aspect of the situation has been that the ghost can’t always open portals, although (as far as Phantom can tell) the rules for when portal creation is possible are confusing, contradictory, and entirely arbitrary. Thankfully, only one human has fallen through one of these portals so far, and they came out the other side shaken, but otherwise fine.
All of this is to say that Phantom isn’t entirely surprised when, mid-fight, Valerie yells, “DANNY, DUCK!”
What does surprise him is the portal Valerie had been trying to warn him about. Fortunately, he does react fast enough to duck. Unfortunately, he doesn’t react fast enough to avoid the portal abruptly reappearing directly below him.
Predictably - because since when has he ever had good luck? - the portal journey is rough, and spits him out somewhere unrecognisable. It is also entirely absent of hostile ghosts. At first, he assumes he’s about to be ambushed, so Phantom puts his back to a nearby rock and waits for something to make the first move.
And waits.
…And waits.
It takes an embarrassingly long time for him to realise that the ghost has apparently skipped fighting him entirely and instead just moved him out of the way.
Well, alright. Okay. Fine. He’ll just have to make his own way back, then.
***
Phantom is in a swamp. The unfamiliar landscape had started out as a mostly-normal-by-ghost-standards floating island with a forest obscuring what he’d thought to be ‘the other half’ of it, but then he’d gone into the forest, hoping to maybe come across something useful, and there was no other half, because it turned out to have actually been obscuring a swamp. An impossible swamp which was too big for an island which had looked so small only moments before. Or a bog, maybe. He’s not actually entirely clear on the difference between a bog and a swamp (and a marsh, and a mire, and a fen… huh. There’s a lot of words for that kind of thing, isn’t there?)
Either way, Phantom has by now been in the maybe-bog-maybe-swamp for way too long. It would probably be a lie if Phantom were to say that he didn’t know how he’d gotten to this point. He does know. It would be hard not to know, considering the actual reason is that he is lost, and has been lost for quite some time, and if possible he would like to stop being lost some time soon, thanks very much.
(It would probably also be a lie if Phantom were ever to describe himself as lucky.)
He hadn’t realised at first, but the portal hadn’t sent him to a recognisable part of the infinite realms. He’d assumed it had, going by the dark green sky and the strange, otherworldly plants, but the further in he wanders, the more sure he is that it can’t be the same place as where his portal goes. He can’t quite put his finger on why, exactly. A gut feeling? A hunch? The way the hairs on his neck prickle, in a way that they haven’t for years?
There is a quality to the air here like a recently broken storm; the release of pressure after a long and uncomfortable build, and the smells of rain on grass. There is a buzzing in the trees - probably insects. Hopefully insects. Sometimes loud enough that he feels it in his teeth; sometimes like a whisper; sometimes like the humming of another ghost’s core. The words don’t make sense. He tells himself that it’s some sort of auditory illusion, rather than actual speech, and yet…
(Phantom is used to being the one in charge of a haunting. It has been a long enough time for him to forget the feeling of being quite so closely watched.)
***
The bog-swamp-thing continues for a while, and he’s careful to drift just far enough over the ground to stay clear of the mud or mulch or who knows what else. Usually, he’d fly over the trees altogether, but… something keeps him close to the ground. Not a physical weight or barrier, but a sense - a feeling that to fly out in the open here would be a very, very bad idea.
He is no closer to finding an exit when the treeline abruptly ends and the mulch transitions into coarse earth, sandy in texture but grey-green in the same way as lichen on old stone.
In the middle of the clearing is a pond.
He lists forwards and peers down at it, uncertain. There’s frogspawn along its shore, scummy lines in the dirt where it has shrivelled and dried, the few remaining eggs milky white instead of black.
The frogspawn blinks at him. The eyes on the aspens blink too. Phantom keeps his eyes resolutely open, and makes sure only to blink out of time.
Nothing good ever comes of ghosts caught in perfect synchronicity, he’s found.
Besides the blinking frogspawn, the pond is… strangely normal. It’s not pleasant, necessarily - it’s covered in a layer of pondweed so thick he’d be surprised if anything else living in it hadn’t already been thoroughly strangled, and it has that particular pond smell that means it’s definitely long past stagnant, but even by human standards it’s not really unusual. The plants don’t even glow, or anything.
But there’s something missing.
There’s a patch near the pond’s edge where the weeds separate and leave a small window into the water; it’s still and murky, and reflects the leaves of the trees like a mirror. Phantom leans over it, and stares, making sure to keep half an eye on the frogspawn and reminding himself not to blink.
The reflection in the pond does not change. Even the leaves, which should otherwise rustle in the breeze, are frozen.
Where is his reflection?
It’s as he’s pondering this that the breath in his lungs turns to ice and makes him choke - it sticks in his throat and melts before he can exhale. He only has a moment to wonder about the strange reaction of his ghost sense when the pond starts to move.
Phantom jerks back and watches as broken twigs move through the pondweed as though dragged by an unseen hand, tangling together when they collide and twisting into knots with wet, organic crackling sounds. Where the weeds part around the movement, he sees the water become darker with disturbed sediment, and the smell of old mud makes him wrinkle his nose, heavy with ammonia and rot.
It’s less like a ghost is emerging from the pond, and more like the pond itself is pulling back a veil to reveal the face underneath. Considering the nature of ghosts, Phantom wouldn’t be altogether too surprised if that really was the case.
Phantom continues to back up as the debris in the pond forms what can only be a body, and he briefly considers just taking his chances and attempting to fly away before it finishes doing… whatever it is it’s doing, but then- the trees were blinking, too, weren’t they? It’s likely that Phantom’s physical location won’t matter, ultimately, for so long as he remains in the forest-bog-marsh-thing. Especially not if this is a haunt; especially not if Phantom, for once, is the intruder.
(He would know. He has experience in chasing out intruders, after all.)
Better to get the first word out before it’s too late, then.
“Uh, hi!” (is that too familiar?) “I mean, uh, I-” (should he introduce himself? Or should he keep his name hidden and safe, just in case?) “-I didn’t mean to intrude, I’m just-” (lost? looking for a way out? looking for home?) “-passing through! right. Yeah. Do- could you tell me the way out? I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”
Nailed it.
The ghost (because what else could it be, if not a ghost? Nevermind the half-choked-on breath that should’ve been a visible cloud. Nevermind that the only hum in this place except for his own is coming from all those insects in the trees-) is done pulling itself together, it seems. Or, at least, he thinks it is; the crackling of the twigs has mostly ceased, except for when it moves, and black mud has risen to encase them like flesh over bone. Which isn’t to say it looks anything even close to human, because the limb count is all wrong and if it has a lower body at all he can’t see it, and where it should have joints it instead has bracken sticking out of the mud, jerking with every movement. It doesn’t really have a face. There’s a collection of roots and pondweed and various other aquatic plants draped over what might be a head, might just be a conveniently placed lump of mud, and here and there he can see tiny, filament-like bones submerged within the sludge. It smells of rotting fish. Phantom supposes he knows where those bones came from.
He’s about to open his mouth and try talking to it again when, with a voice that seems to come rushing over him like wind through the trees, it says, “YOU WILL NOT FIND IT.”
“Find… it?” asks Danny.
“YOUR REFLECTION,” It replies. “YOU WILL NOT FIND IT. THERE ARE NO REFLECTIONS HERE.”
///…and from here we devolve into the kind-of incomprehensible parts. it’s mostly the pond thing dialoguing, honestly. i think i’d originally had a particular idea about how i wanted things to resolve, but i’ve sort of… forgotten it? woops. i’ll figure it out one day maybe
#posting before i lose my nerve#idk how to really tag this tbh#spooky ghost story about ghost who do ghost things#and the spooky places they get lost in#etc etc#danny phantom#fic talk#wip#dp#dp fanfic#unfinished
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OC Headcanons: You wear their accessories
~ Rika Moriarty ~
Rika likes to wear several rings on her fingers. She owns quite a lot of rings along with a few pairs of earrings. It's rare to see her without her accessories, but she does take them off in a few occasions. It's usually when she trains with her dorm mates or when she prepares desserts, she does value her accessories and look after them.
So when she offers to make you one of her desserts, you take the chance to tinker with her rings. Most of her rings are silver or black in color, since she does make the effort to make it look good with whatever outfit she wears. You don't often see her wearing extravagant rings with precious stones and gems, but you figured that it didn't exactly fit her style. When she finally tidies up the kitchen and serves the dessert, she goes to look for her rings, not even noticing them on your fingers.
" Have you seen my rings? I could've sworn I left them at this exact spot..." She mutters, and you chuckle with how worried she seemed to be. Rika's amethyst eyes scan the counter as a pout begins to settle on her face.
" Did I misplace them? Or have I just forgotten where I put them again? Where is it-"
" Rika, look!" You call out, making the girl turn to face your direction. You'd be a liar if you said her pout wasn't adorable, but the relieved smile that blossomed on her lips was far more enchanting.
" With how small my hands are, I'm surprised my rings could even fit on your fingers..." She chuckles, and you can't help but smile at the blush the decorates her cheeks.
" If you want, I can let you borrow them. I have other rings too you know"
" So long as you give me an actual ring soon" You tease, hoping to get a reaction out of her. But Rika only tilts her head to the side, visibly confused by your words.
" But they are actual rings?... Forgive me but... I do not understand what you meant..."
" Nevermind..."
" W-what-"
~ Aster Aeris Holmes ~
A black choker can easily remind one of Aster. The accessory is very noticeable with how he leaves a few buttons open and how he doesn't wear a vest or a tie in his school uniform. The male also wears piercings, but with his hair framing his face, it's quite impossible to tell that they're there; unlike the choker that you could easily see around his neck.
It's a peculiar accessory, to say the least. You even wonder how Aster manages to wear it all day without feeling uncomfortable. That's why when Aster had taken it off before he went off to take a quick shower, you immediately take it and decide to give it a try. However, you didn't take into account how difficult it would be to put the choker on. It takes you a while, and you didn't even notice Aster walking up towards you.
" What do you think you're doing?" You flinch upon hearing the teasing tone of his voice. A chuckle leaves his lips as he approaches you, his eyes set on the choker that you were attempting to wear.
" Need some help?" He asks you teasingly, to which you respond with a huff.
" N-no!" You exclaim. Aster only snickers as he reaches out his hands to help, paying no attention to your yelps as he smirks down at you.
" There you go~ you made it so difficult with all your squirming though" The male says with a content smile on his face. You let out a sigh of relief when you realized he secured the choker around your neck quite nicely. Then again, it felt quite loose, but you wouldn't want it wrapped around your neck tightly either.
Aster lets you savor the quick moment of peace, the calm before the storm before a dangerous smirk blossoms on his lips once again. And so the male hooks in his finger between your neck and the choker loosely wrapped around it, then pulling you close until you can feel his lips on yours.
" You're so fun to tease, doll"
" Y-you bastard!"
" Heh"
~ Valerie Rosetta Adler ~
Valerie owns a wide collection of jewelry, many of which are expensive and undeniably eye-catching. But most of the time, she settles for a nice pair of earrings, and she seems to have a perfect pair for each and every occasion. Stud earrings, clip on earrings, dangling earrings, hoops, even ear cuffs, she has quite the variety in her collection.
But don't think for a second that she is greedy with her collections, if anything else, she wants you to try them on. That's why you now find yourself sitting in front of her vanity table, with makeup palettes and jewelry boxes scattered around. For today, you are your girlfriend's precious doll to be adorned by the highest quality jewelry and clothing.
" Ooh, which one would you like to try first?" Valerie asks with such an enthusiastic tone that you can't help but smile as well. She takes one of the jewelry boxes from her vanity table and shows you its contents. Earrings of many types made of various materials fill the box, all of which are arranged neatly for display.
" Though, I'm sure all of them would fit you nicely. That's just how naturally beautiful you are, my dear" She chuckles, even more so when you blush because of her comment.
" Well... How about... Your favorites? The ones you wear the most" You tell her. The woman looks at you with wide eyes, pleasantly surprised by your answer.
" That's quite sweet of you, my darling. But oh well, since you asked so nicely~" Valerie hums. You watch as she takes out a pair of earrings from one of the jewelry boxes, the embedded gemstones immediately catching your attention.
" This one's my favorite, it's simple and yet so elegant. It goes well with my uniform, don't you think?" She shows you the earrings, and sure enough, it's one of the pairs you'd often see her wearing around the school.
" Oh? I didn't notice that they were clip ons" You mutter as you examine the pair of jewelry on the palm of her hand.
" Mhmm~ now then, let's put them on you, shall we?" Valerie hums. You let her do her thing, staring at the mirror as you do. It's quite cute, you think to yourself, how small moments like these can always be so romantic and enjoyable when you're with her.
" And there you go" She turns your head, letting herself get a good view of you with her earrings.
" So, do I look good?" You chuckle, looking up at Valerie with a soft smile.
" Oh my darling, you don't just look good, look beautiful!" Valerie giggles, and so you do too. Yet your laughter dies down when Valerie falls silent. You then feel Valerie's thumb caressing your cheek, and the only thing you can hear from yourself is a mess of flustered stuttering as your girlfriend leans in close to you.
" You are beautiful..."
" Valerie..."
" My sweet darling, why don't you show me more of that cute expression, hmm?"
~•~
#twisted wonderland oc#twst oc#twst oc x reader#rika moriarty#aster aeris holmes#valerie rosetta adler#bet y'all didn't see this coming huh-
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Any Sam headcanons?
Yes. So many. (Please read the other two posts to understand this one, Ill tag them as #weirdshc)
While her grandmother is still alive, she makes sure to be home in time for holidays. The one time she misses is because the train she was on back to Amity stalled and she was late by 3 hours.
When her grandmother passes, she still is home for holidays but rarely stays after, its suffocating to stay in her old home cause of her parents who have grown resentful of their traveling kid; they still try to clean her up and take her to parties--they've never succeeded.
Speaking of holidays, specifically food, Sam eats Latkes with applesauce, the rest of her family eats it with sour cream. Fights have broken out over this.
One train swap when she's in her late 20s went bad and her foot got stuck in the undercarriage, she had to stop train hopping afterwards but she built a life in Amity with her 2 idiots and qpp
Since she lost everything from the knee down, Val and Danny use their ecto-engineering skills to fashion her a high tech leg that runs on ectoplasm. She wears it most days, but has a wooden one she whittled slowly through her recovery for days where she needs comfort rather than continuous movement. She also uses a cane left from her grandfather that her grandmother kept.
Her adult life includes creating community garden, a campaign for more eco friendly ways to power things, a small cafe that uses the things she grows in her personal garden to create the food, and a nice sized house where everyone has their own room.
That cafe she runs? On the rails its known as hopper's haven, any train hopper can come in and get a hot meal for Cheap and a shower in the back. If they need a place to stay she lets them camp overnight in exchange for menial chores that need done; cleaning the bathrooms, scrubbing the oven, cleaning out the coffee grinder. She has at least 3 hoppers come in a week so she always has someone to help when she cant do something.
Tucker creates the income for the house being a freelance tech security for hire (hacking on the back side), so Sam doesnt have to worry about paying for her cafe And a house.
Val is Red 70% of the time anymore, the ghosts are lenient but still need monitoring most days. When shes not patrolling shes at the cafe being a helping hand baking and cooking (she refuses to work cashier).
Danny has his Kingly duties on the weekends, and works in FentonWorks creating ghost-safe gear, for defence and protection Only. His parents have finally mellowed out a truce with ghosts and instead of dissecting them, talk with them
Oh shoot I haven't explained the quartet have I. So Danny is romantically dating Sam and Tucker, Tucker is romantically dating Danny and Val, Sam is romantically dating Tucker and Danny and platonically dating Valerie, and Val is romantically dating Tucker and platonically dating Sam. Like this:
Date nights usually consist of d rate movies and slightly reanimated food if Danny cooks, regular good food if Sam or Val cook, and pizza if Tucker cooks
Sam does bring home Fy, a cat I mentioned in a previous ask. You might think she's the one who always brings home strays because of this; you think wrong. Danny does. He's a freaking animal whisperer sometimes. Val doesn't mind other animals but is still iffy on dogs. She will interact with them but if she had the choice she wouldn't have dogs. Tuck likes the animals Danny brings home most of the time but one time he brings home a bird and that bird hasn't left Tuck's side since it fully healed.
Fy lives a hell of a lot longer than she should. Sam says she's too stubborn to die, Danny thinks she's a bit ecto contaminated. Val swears she saw the cat get run over and just get back up. Tucker won't cross the cat on bath day, he learned his lesson and thinks death themself is too scared of her.
Fy stayed home most of Sam's hopping days, but she did take her with sometimes in the summer. Fy is very good at jumping off trains and never had an incident with the train itself, but a guard at one of the stops saw her and kicked her, causing her to have a permanent limp in her back leg. When Sam loses her foot she jokes that they match.
When her parents finally retire from whatever they do (I forget rn) they take up traveling on a much more expensive level, and lowkey understand why Sam didn't stop until she had to.
Before Sam left while they were all in high school still, she set up a food week. Instead of her recyclotarian thing she did freshman year, she set up a booth where each day of the week had a person from the community come in and cook ethnic food from their heritage. She started the week off on her own, cooking Shasuka and Latkes and Matza. Everyone who tried it enjoyed it, causing the person who came in on Tuesday to have a nice sized crowd as they talked about their food.
When they graduate, Sam convinces Val to spread the idea for everyone to decorate their cap for their senior prank cause the school didn't allow them too. Everyone did, even the A-Listers, so they had to continue on with their ceremony since the school didnt account for that many students doing it.
When the fall faire started come to town their junior year, they met a carny who let them keep continuously riding the twister thing that sets you up on the wall and g force keeps you there. They go back every year and eventually the carny and Sam cross paths while she's hopping. The carny invites Sam for a funnel cake and they catch up.
While hopping, Sam created a few accounts on social media to help pay for things. She uses this to make sure the people back home know shes okay, and to also spread the word about things going on in the nation. The first time she protests, the police fight back with unwarranted force. She's had worse dealing with ghosts, but tear gas at point blank? Fuck that shit. She scrubs her eyes in an alley where a hose for a restaurant was left plugged in, then jumps right back into the fray. She leads the protestors to safety while confusing the cops, and she goes viral from a protester recording her and tagging her (side note: do NOT record ANYTHING at protests, you could incriminate innocent people yall). The video has her using ghost evasion techniques and straight up picking up the rubber bullets and throwing them back; its not as effective as shooting them but getting hit with one being thrown like a football is bound to hurt. From there on she uses her lack of address to her advantage and straight up disappears for weeks before showing up at another city's protests.
When her accident happens, a gofundme is started for her and all the people shes protested with and for boost it, covering her hospital bills.
Speaking of hospital bills, back before she hops but after high school, a ghost comes through the portal. The ghost has a scepter that spews a mist from the top and the bottom catches the droplets as they fall. They announce themselves as a traveler of sorts, they visit lairs and contribute to the ectoplasm to help heal corrupted ectoplasm. Amity Park's ectoplasm isn't corrupted, but it is different than normal, so they ask to stay around for a while. The quartet doesn't mind as long as they leave the people alone, so they part ways. A while later, they each run into the ghost and have brief but confusing conversations about how it must have cost them greatly to open and hold the portal for so long etc etc. Eventually, all four of them catch the ghost in the park, and they ask the needed questions. They apparently find out when a portal opens, the portal then has bits n pieces of whoever was there when it opened; and the longer its open the more it takes from whoever was first there. This freaks them out rightfully so, they think they're dying or something of the other. While having this informative convo, another bbeg (big bad evil Ghost) that's not their usual rogues comes in and tries to take over Amity. There's a big fight, the quartet wins but the trio feels ick. They brush it off as after fight adrenaline crash and promise to finish the talk tomorrow. The next day, Val and the ghost meet up but the trio isnt there, they try to go find them and it turns out they've been hospitalized for an unknown reason. They're treating it as severe ectoplasm contamination (just think about Danny's levels holy shit) so this leaves Val and the ghost to try and come up with a way that they can leave the portal open but have it not affect their friends (cause they connect the two dots somehow idk). They figure it out, replenishing the ectoplasm in their bodies (the bbeg apparently corrupted their ectoplasm somehow) and the trio gets better. All in all not a fun time but an interesting study and memory. The ghost leaves a while later and says if they ever need them, just to call out [ŕ̸̫͊e̴͚͂̑̿ḓ̷̙̈͝ã̸̧͓̜̈́c̴̜̊̈t̵̙̮̃e̴̳͝d̸͙̖͊͆] and they'll come. Clockwork shows up then and asks if they liked his friend, and then they find out this ghost is like, uber powerful. All in a days work ya know.
Back to a lighter subject, Sam got exposed to all sorts of music on the rails, from reggae to bluegrass, but her favorites are the ones that make her feel nostalgic. She mostly listens to Thomas Sanders, Mumford&Sons, Avicii, the Crane Wives, and the Steam Powered Giraffes. Will listen to musicals in private, and her favorite musical is the Great Comet of 1812.
She has a 3 fold vegan leather dad wallet.
She likes grape gum for the aesthetic, pineapple gum for shits n giggles, and cotton candy gum in private.
Loves Asian food in general but koreans her favorite. (Will froth at the mouth over baked asian pears)
Gets cursed by some ghost who's power level is meh, was supposed to be a vampire curse but she only gained sharp teeth and a craving for coconut milk. This happens in the later years, after train hopping and establishing a home.
Dorathea visits occasionally and always brings gifts, usually ends up being some medieval plant or jewelry of some kind. When the quartet got together, Dorathea supplied the rings and bracelets; rings for Valerie and Danny, bracelets for Sam and Tuck. This is just the preference for them methinks.
Sam once took an extended vacation into the GZ to Dora's kingdom, came back to the rest of the quartet literally panicking cause they lost Fy. Turns out Fy was with Sam, she snuck into her luggage and had a very nice time being coddled by Dora's ladies in waiting.
On the weekends, Sam and Val go to the fancy upscale stores (think the ones that give champagne to customers) to gab about the boys.
Atm that's all I can think of, if you include the other posts. Also sorry about the late reply, i had a weird shift at work so I could only write so much before i passed out yesterday lol. Thanks for sending all these asks they're super fun
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Now that I finished my Danny design, what do u think of the main character redesigns as well as Paulina’s?
YES everyone go look at these right now (Danny / Sam / Tucker / Jazz / Valerie / Paulina)
The short answer is that I love them, you put in a lot of heart, style, and personality while keeping the characters recognizable in a very elegant way. I know you've talked a lot about the thought that went into your design choices already, so I'm just going to go over a few of my favorites
Danny - the little pins on his jacket! the goggles! the platforming on his boots that resemble astronaut tread! the kind of dorky kind of cool kind of both factor of both his short sleeved hoodie and his vest!
Sam - the DRAMA of Sam's outfit! the specific little detail that her boot tread is spikier! the variation in tones of purple so the design flows well without becoming cluttered! the pops of green not just in the skirt but also in the necklace and hairties! the little mole!
Tucker - I like that his color pallet has a lot of his original browns, greens, and yellows, for soothing neutral/earth tones, and that you've switched out the red for a calmer blue; his color pallet has always been my least favorite to work with, and this is much nicer, and lends itself well to the sense of Tucker as the person who most in their trio would be happy with things more mellow and as they were. But he's got his own sense of excited, interests, and quirks too, highlighted in a fun way by his gloves, earring, and hat pins
Jazz - the smart young professional vibes of her tied back hair, collared shirt, clearly attended to nails, and wristwatch are TOP tier. I also like how you swapped her plain BLACK sweater and shoes for a dark teal with some lighter patterning, it keeps her 'visually distinct' canon element while toning down the ways it was a little too striking and drew focus
Valerie - I am captivated by the decision to canonize the curl waves in her hair as actual gray streaks! the CLEAR care and attention of the little details, fashion and status symbols of her outfit! the mix of practicality, access, and fashion! the WARM, sunny look balanced with the very down to earth touches like her sneakers and sweater! the little pops of purple with her nails and lipstick! tight race between Valerie and Jazz as my favorite of your designs tbh
Paulina - the glitter! the little butterfly! the DETAILS of her jewellery! the mole, showing some synchronicity with Sam! i know i said it already but the GLITTER! it's such a lovely look that's a great balance of fashion and EXCESS, while still absolutely looking like something a fourteen year old with a mind for style would put together
Also I mentioned in the previous ask you sent me that I think it's very funny the trio's canon designs are not like. for the same season of the year. so i just wanted to highlight that in your version they are in fact all wearing a long sleeved layer, if a very different one each- they're more in sync but still unique, and likewise Paulina and Valerie are both in short sleeves, and are also both mostly monochrome, coming from the same group; and Jazz, who is in neither of those groups, has three-quarter length sleeves, her own thing.
Also, wanted to say I like that you give Tucker, Valerie, and Paulina brown eyes. Brown eyes rock
#danny phantom#z.txt#danny fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#valerie gray#jazz fenton#paulina sanchez#dnpanimationstudioclone
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Comparing Valery's beauty with Thinn is absurd because they are different type, one is European and the other Asian....
and you can't compare 10 years of relationship with 7 months🙄.
Valery is now with a man who is not so handsome, but he loves her, respects her and gives her a place in his life. thinn, she is with a man who at the same time is with others, I say for women OF, Angelina, and all that has been seen, he orders her what to do and what not to do....
"I think DK was probably too emotional and intelligent to suit Lordy. GTGT is a super fan girl and a ding."
🤭
Valery, it was the same, she waited and she realized she wasn't going anywhere.
You know the difference? Thinn, she doesn't know him, everything is new between them. that's the difference, She still thinks it's special to wear Jared's clothes, that it's special that he asks her not to post, she thinks she's going to get a lot of expensive gifts from him and that he only thinks about her.... she doesn't know him, that's why she is so manipulable... time is the one that says it's love or just a fantasy
everything is exposed, once or twice, it may be coincidence, but when the same thing happens more than 2 times, it is not a coincidence...
Time and actions do the talking
There is Emery, geoflo, SoBo, angelina, bartroli.... The guidelines to follow are set by jared
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I just love how people keep ragging on DV's looks as if he's somehow Quasimodo and JL is the handsomest hunk who ever hunked... 😂
As if! 😂
There is absolutely nothing wrong with Dims' looks, and JL also isn't the most handsome man who ever lived. 😂
Not by a fucking longshot! 😂
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Claudette + Kuzco + Clopin + Piper
Claudette gets Valentines Day - always. It’s her favorite holiday. It used to be her birthday but then she started feeling old, and not exactly wanting to celebrate that, so Valentine’s Day. Bring on the champagne, which she had a taste for better than Clopin’s love of wine. She would bulk order a bunch of candy hearts - the good, fancy kind that have real flavor and aren’t just chalk - and have personalized messages on them.
‘Kuzpin forever’
‘Kuzette forever’
And of course there were more dirty ones, instructional ones
‘Kiss me’
‘Suck me’
‘Fuck me’
Some had memories on them to make them giggle and reminisce.
‘Disney sux’
‘Walmart rulez’
‘Paris, u + me’
‘Today is the greatest’
All shaved everything, hair extensions, make up to try to soften up the very masculine features, and wearing a little (what else?) purple nightgown. Of course some of these hearts will be for Piper, because no one lets Piper be left out. She’ll get her own box of fancy French chocolates, ordered before they left NZ, and their temp maid picking it up. Lots of serenading from Claudette, dancing, living the best life.
Frank + Delta
Although Frank hasn’t been feeling the best, since apparently Delta has been thinking about a lot of his failures and singing Flotsam’s praises (come on, he’s a jealous guy of course he’s going to catch onto all of that, it’s not going to be great), he still slightly celebrates the big love day. He doesn’t do it in a grand way, he’s not much for that. Not is he going to go all lovey dovey, hearts over everything, romance is in the air, serenading like Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You. This is Frank. Who is having doubts because everything is pointing to Delta doing the same. Especially when being friends with Valerie apparently goes hand in hand with insulting him, she only thinks about one while doing the other?
What he will do is he will walk through the chaos to where there are still those lingering outside, the stubborn reporters, the foolish, hopeless people hoping that their loved ones will come out. He picks two. Beckons them in. And then he enjoys the simple act of strangling them with his own hands. That’s something that came out through Delta. He only loved receiving pain. Now he didn’t mind giving it, but he saved the more exquisite, creative pain for those that deserved it. Not these .. things. Carved them up. Took out their hearts. So slippery and slimy and red. He left the corpses to either fester or for the feral animals to eat up. Fresh meat.
Using careful stitches that Sally had taught him, he sewed the two hearts together to become one. A meaty surprise. Surround it in resin so that it will last longer than a few hours before the stench becomes too horrible. Preserved now. No ribbon or cards, he’ll just give it to Delta during their dinner, kissing the top of her hand.
GoGo + Scout
Of course Valentine’s Day falls on a school day. And though she’s rather caught up in her mechanics, as per usual, and taking care of these human-like dolls and their vampire owner, the lack of boxing girl has been noticed. Scout didn’t really have to say anything. So as a bit of fun, Go-Go comes into school early and sets up a fan in the back of Scout’s locker, that’s attached to the door, and filled it with Fast and the Furious valentines. So that when Scout goes in to try to get her books, whoosh, the valentines are going to come flying out in the breeze, and scatter all over the hallway.
Oogie Boogie + Spade + Barrel
Quality family time, a big batch of candied hearts - real hearts, of course, dipped in sugars to make it oh so sweet and meaty and chewy and crisp. Rather simple this year, but there’s a lot coming up, Oogie can feel it.
Valentin + Nicolai
Valentin starts off the day with jumping on his cousin’s bed. “ITS MY DAYYYYY!” He says, music playing, lots of dancing. Pretty much acting out the True Faith music video up there. Nicolai is used to this, aims a well timed ick at his knees, making him buckle and fall off the bed. He’s going to be like this for the rest of the day. Handing out roses to people who were still at HTT. Unable to pay attention in class. It’s not even his birthday. It’s just Valentine’s Day. He keeps an eye out for CJ though is unsure if he made it through the craziness. Finishes off the night with Kartoshka and Salted Caramel White Russians.
Elsa
Elsa won’t be saying much when Koda goes. She got her rejection email. She was hardly the type to rebuttle it, no meant no. It was a shame. But he was leaving her with memories. She would move out of the hotel, refusing to take up anymore of the Laveaus money on it, and find herself a small studio to stay in for the time being. Ellie was strong willed, she would be going whether Elsa approved of it or not, there was no point in trying to find a bigger place. She’d just - seem to carry on. Settle in. Visit the Laveaus every once in a while, trying to make a point of doing it once a week, even if just for a short while. She even buys Go-Go’s old bike - a standard bicycle, nothing souped up - to get all the way out there. Where is life going, she does not know. But behind those doors, she feels that loss very deeply. The candles left by Koda stay on her table, with reverence.
Ellie + Babyface
Valentine’s Day probably happening on the road. She’s remembering the one the year before. Working, and then being surprised by him bringing over a Care Bear. It was a really cute gesture. Making out in the pantry. She’d be looking at him and smiling a lot, remembering it, bring it up. She’ll try to surprise him at one of their stops by getting him a couple of gifts. Babyface was such a tough guy, or at least he tried to be, she let him keep up the illusion though she knew the softie beneath, so she started with a unicorn that she’d keep on the dashboard of whatever vehicle they managed to get. It reminded her of the prom that they totally crashed. A couple of giant candy bars. AND some weird teriyaki beef jerky sodas.
Maddy + Bastien + Frankie
It’ll be another Valnetine’s Night inside, since there’s not much in the city now - no going out to get dinner, drinks, see a movie, anything like that. But that’s alright, there’s plenty to do inside. Maddy will put Frankie in a cute little Valentine’s Day outfit to start up that cheer. She wasn’t going Reaper this year, though she still had that outfit hanging in a special place, but she did stic with something pretty and black that was sheer but also hid that belly she was still working on getting rid of, did a bit of make up to try to be more sultry and sexy. Feeding her man right, giving him some dances so maybe he could objectify her a little bit, just a touch, and of course, plenty of love, kissing all over, massaging, pampering him.
#Gonna do a Thomas starter#but wasn't sure if you had any plans so wrote some of my own#if you wanna write anything out just lemme know :)
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I keep seeing corset discourse cross my dash, and I make a real effort to just ignore it, but for some reason lately it is really intense and I just can't anymore.
I know that there's a long-standing tradition of people popping up on social media, particularly Tumblr, with an exciting revisionist take on history that turns out to be bullshit - a misunderstanding of the history at best, deliberate misinformation at worst. That is not what's happening here.
It's a well-established fact in fashion history that corsets weren't that bad. No, really. Valerie Steele's The Corset: A Cultural History, the landmark book that complicates the popular view of (mainly) Victorian corsetry, was published by Yale UP in 2001. And then the other side I'm seeing argued here is based on ... logic? just knowing?
The problem with "just knowing" that corsets were terrible and hated by their wearers is that ... look, I don't want to say "you are not immune to propaganda" for a couple of reasons (the definition of propaganda, for one), but at this point we have:
- centuries of overwrought opinions from male moralists and physicians decrying the corset/stays, usually in order to impute irrational vanity to women or to effectively blame them for their own medical conditions
(medical conditions that in most cases are still more present in women despite the lack of corsetry today)
- a tiny, tiny minority of primary sources by women that are explicitly negative about the corset, frequently accompanied by statements that make no sense, like saying that even wearing a skirt with a tight waistband without a corset can cause hideous health problems
- nearly a century of popular culture created by people who never wore corsets that show the stereotypical scenes of a) women being comedically uncomfortably laced in by a maid or sister or mother or b) women fainting or complaining of being short of breath explicitly because of their corsets
- also nearly a century of academic and popular historians writing books that don't have anything to do with corsets but mention how bad they are in passing because It Is Known and doesn't need to be cited
And I'm sorry, but if you have been passively taking in all of these things - which you have, because they saturate pop culture relating to the Victorian era and earlier - and not actively working to get a better sense of the reality, then your opinion that the costumers who talk about how they like wearing corsets or the people who want to see fewer films/books that go on about the badness of corsets are wrong or dumb and don't even realize how anti-feminist they're being is just uninformed and anti-intellectual.
Yes, the pop take is often reductive. People frequently ignore the social pressure inherent in anything that's a norm in a society as well as the tendency of late 19thc descriptions of corsets as solving problems of the body (ie too plump, too thin), because these are complex topics, and they focus on their personal experiences and tastes. However, that doesn't make the overall point wrong. It just means that they aren't expressing it as well as they could be.
There is plenty of room to disagree with specifics, or to say that a particular discussion is misinterpreting this or that source, etc., but I'm getting tired of seeing people I otherwise respect just being jerks about anyone who doesn't adhere to their very specific Whiggish view that is more informed by pop culture than anything else. People who want to talk about the corset as a neutral-to-useful piece of clothing need to do better at contextualizing; people who want to do the opposite need to do a lot better at contextualizing as well. Friends, you NEED to learn about the explicit and implicit misogyny in a lot of the anti-corset literature; you need to deal with the fact that there are nowhere near as many accounts by women of hating their corsets as you think, and that perhaps dress reform was unappealing to women because the claims did not match their lived experiences. You need to stop exaggerating the stances of the not-anti-corset crowd into absurd stereotypes and insisting that they represent the bulk of the discourse on the topic.
Quite frankly, as a Legit Fashion Historian, I would much rather deal with people who are perhaps a bit overexcited and rosy-eyed about Corsets Being Good, Actually, than people who are pretty much stating that they know more about why Corsets Were Terrible than me because it's Manifestly Obvious.
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bang a gong.
summary: you’re tired of being a virgin, and when you meet harry at a bar, he’s more than happy to help you out.
warnings: literally all porn, very little plot. fingering, m+f receiving oral, dom!harry
word count: 11.1k
listen to while reading: bang a gong (get it on) by t. rex
You should say - for the record, or perhaps to maintain your dignity - that this is never the type of place you’d generally be caught in.
If you hadn’t been dragged from your faux pretense of nonchalance after you got dumped, you never would have come. It wasn’t like it was a serious relationship - barely two months - but it was your first since graduating college and perhaps you thought, maybe, you were in with this guy for the long haul, but he didn’t agree. You suppose it was a silly thought (your friends had told you not to expect too much from a former frat boy, anyway.) And it did prove to be, anyway, dissipating the second you woke up to a text saying he didn’t reckon things were working out, and could he please have his hoodie back?
Whatever. You hadn’t been too sad but your friends insisted you needed to let go of him and that is exactly why you’re here, pressed into a booth at a high end nightclub you can’t afford, your friends and the randoms they’d pulled from the dance floor packed so tight that you can feel your thighs sticking to the leather seats and to each other. You hadn’t intended on drinking anything because the prices of the drinks would absolutely kill your bank account, but that, according to your friends, is exactly why you’re here - meet rich guys who frequent here, to have drinks bought for you with false promises of a night of fun, before leaving them high and dry while you are thoroughly drunk.
A good concept, in theory, and it was enough to tug you off of the couch and dig through your closet to find a suitable dress to wear. Perhaps you’d support it more, though, if you had any experience in seducing guys at all - the entire night, you’d merely been grabbing the extra shots your friends had gotten from the guys they’d located.
“Aren’t you having fun?” your friend asks, and you turn to look at her from where she sits next to you. The music is thumping some song you can’t recognize and it rings in your ears as you raise your eyebrows at her. Speak louder, your eyebrows say, and Natalie leans closer so her lips are nearly brushing your ear. “I said, are you having fun?”
Are you? Well, you’re not sure. Even if you’d done nothing to earn the two shots you’d downed, they did taste better than the cheap bars you and your friends frequented on weekends. And it was entertaining, watching guys nearly twice your age seriously believe they’d end up between the sheets with your friends later. So you shrug, bringing your hand to fan at your neck, trying desperately to alleviate the heat burning at your skin. “It’s alright.”
It’s good enough for Natalie and she turns back to Valerie, whose legs are swung over the lap of some 50 year old who had got you all your second round of shots. His hand is pressed to her waist, fingertips digging into her skin through her dress, and it makes your stomach churn to see, so you drop your eyes to the table, where you’ve been picking at your screen protector for the past 15 minutes.
It’s times like this you wish you were a lightweight but you barely feel tipsy, and you’d like nothing more than to rip away your inhibitions and go out and dance against some guy who you’ll never see again, but you find it too awkward to do while practically sober. You bring your eyes up to scan at the dance floor - God, there’s so many girls with the same ideas you had, presumably. The demographic of this club is rich old men and broke, early-20s girls and you don’t know how much you really like to be one of them.
Though you can’t deny that the drinks are good.
“Stop thinking so much!” you glance back at Natalie with your brows furrowed. You hate the way she can practically feel what you’re thinking because you’d have been more than happy to tug at your screen protector until it peeled off of your entirely-too-vulnerable phone but she’d never allow it. Never let you sit here, in this booth, while everyone else is having a good time. Sometimes you appreciate it and sometimes you don’t and you aren’t quite sure of how you’re feeling about it now. “You know what I think?”
You can’t fucking hear her and you lean your head in more, awating her response as your narrowed eyes look around the crowd on the dance floor again. No one catches your eye but nobody catches your eye here, either, and you reckon you’d have better luck roaming the streets of LA to find someone worth your time.
“I think you should go get laid,” Natalie tells you, and you exhale, a humorless smile turning your lips up. “I’m serious! There has to be some hot, rich guy here. What, did that guy fuck you so good you never want anyone else again?”
The thought of being pinned under any guy that your eyes are glazing over could make you gag, but you reckon she may be right. Unbeknownst to your friends, you’d never fucked anyone and you hadn’t necessarily felt the need - you’d done just about everything else under the sun, and not a single guy you’d given a blowie to, or who’d fingered you, had ever been able to find the spot that made you squirm more than anything. So you’d never quite understood why having someone’s dick inside of you was such a big deal but you can’t deny, now, that getting it out of the way does sound quite nice, solely to boost your self esteem after getting dumped by a graduated frat boy named Logan.
There wasn’t much of a bigger blow to your ego than that.
You tug your gloss-coated bottom lip in between your teeth, dropping your eyes back down to Natalie’s, and she widens her eyes at you in a way that further encourages you to get the whole virginity thing out of the way. It’s not like it matters, anyway. “Maybe,” you tell her, entirely too quiet compared to the music pulsing through the club, and she smiles, leaning back in the booth. You’re not sure if she heard you because you can’t hear whatever she says next, but it doesn’t matter - you’re already pushing your way out of the booth, calling excuse me to where Alexa is leaning close to the man she’d found (and he’s, by far, the most attractive of any of the three guys your friends had located, but Alexa has always been the best at finding the hottest guys, and you’re nearly positive she actually will end up fucking him tonight.) She leans forward so you can climb behind her, awkwardly in your heels, and you tug at one of her curls as you clamber out of the booth.
Working your way through a crowd of people to the bar is a skill you’ve all but mastered and at a club like this, it’s a lot easier than you’d expected. There’s less people dancing than you’d thought though you shouldn’t be shocked - it certainly isn’t like the usual clubs you go to. And so, you push your way through the people dancing to the bar, and there’s a few people spread out on the barstools. You scan the back of them - you can’t see any of their faces, naturally, so you merely judge from their hair, and you take a few steps forward and settle yourself onto a stool besides a man with messy brown curls, a pint of beer in front of him.
When you peek at his side profile he certainly looks younger than you’d expected - hardly older than you, if at all. And that’s a score for you, you figure. You’d much prefer to lose your virginity to someone who doesn’t seem like they could be your dad. But he is wearing sunglasses and that’s a bit weird - certainly not a dealbreaker but odd enough to make you wonder.
You aren’t sure what to say - should’ve listened closer when Natalie, Valerie or Alexa were seducing their men for drinks - and for a moment you sit in silence.
It’s only when you turn your head to take another look at him, at the sunglasses sitting at the very top of his nose, that the silence between you two is broken, and his head tilts ever so slightly towards you. “What’re you looking at?”
God, his voice. You’d always had a thing for British accents and his is better than most, deep and raspy and slow, and you shift on your stool. And it sounds just a bit familiar but you can’t exactly pinpoint where - well, it doesn’t matter. If things go further between you two, tonight, you surmise he’d forever be the sexiest voice you’d slept with.
But you can’t get your hopes up. After all, the sunglasses in a dimly lit, fancy club is enough to make you just a bit suspicious of what type of person he is, and you refuse to hand over your V-card to a weirdo.
“Just wondering what your glasses are for.” Figure it’s best to figure that out before you let this get any further. You don’t want to waste your time. And you pointedly glance up at the ceiling, eyes darting around the walls of the club. “S’not like there’s much light here to protect your eyes from, is there?”
He chuckles, then, and you raise your eyebrows. “Guess I just don’t want people to see me,” he tells you, and when he turns to face you fully your eyes scan over his face and - God, he really does look familiar. And he sounds familiar. Have you met him before? No, you don’t think you could ever forget someone like him.
But - well, maybe. You weren’t necessarily known for having the keenest of memories.
You smile at him, brows creasing together. He certainly does seem to be a mystery and you’d love to uncover it in more ways than one. So you lean forward, resting your arm on the bartop. “Seems like the wrong kind of place, if you don’t want people to see you.”
“I reckon it’s working - you’re the first person to talk to me all night.” A hand - a large hand, you note - goes up to his hair, fingers brushing through his curls, and your eyes follow its path in a way that certainly isn’t anywhere close to subtle. “Not that I’m complaining, of course.”
Is he flirting with you? You’re not quite sure but God, you hope so, because so far he keeps getting better and better to you. So you turn to completely face him and you can see the small smirk on his lips, as if he knows what he’s doing to you without even having to try. “Are you going to tell me your name?”
You can see his eyebrows raise as he picks up his beer and takes a sip. Your eyes can’t help but follow every movement he makes and you don’t care if you look desperate - truthfully, you are. You hadn’t even seen his face in its entirety but you suspect your friends would be impressed if they could see the sort of guy you’d located. Even if you leave this club and never see him again, you’re not sure you could ever forget the way he’s making your stomach flip just with a small quirk of his lips.
When he’s set his drink down again and brought his wrist up to wipe at the beer still lingering on his lips - is that a Gucci watch? - he tilts his head at you, curls flopping, and then says, “Tell me yours first,” so you do. And he nods slowly before telling you, “My name is Harry.”
Harry.
Your mind is whirring because suddenly the pieces are coming together - and you hadn’t been in your One Direction phase for a few years but you certainly know who Harry is. And the fact that you’re just sitting here, right now, talking to him in a club filled with too many other girls to count, seems like an accomplishment in itself. But you don’t want him to know you know, though surely he must assume you do, so you nod in the same fashion he did, as if you’re content with what he’d told you.
“Harry,” you repeat, as if testing the name out on your tongue. He spins his stool slightly so he’s facing you and your knees knock into his slightly. And then you raise your eyebrows at him, reaching down to tug your dress down slightly where it’s been riding up on your thighs, and you don’t miss the way his eyes follow your movements. “Are you going to let me see your eyes, Harry?”
Harry laughs slightly and then stands, and you look up at him, confusion blazing in your eyes. Is he leaving? God, you hope not. You don’t want your experience with him to be over before it's begun, no matter what it ends up being. But then he motions, with one finger, for you to follow him and you’re standing so fast your head is spinning, and you trail after him as he leads you through the crowd of people, and you crane your neck to try and see where your friends are but you can’t see them anywhere.
It’s fine by you, you decide, as Harry stops in front of a small, darkened booth towards the back of the club. You’re surprised but positively overjoyed that it’s empty - seems like the perfect type of table for anyone looking to get lucky. And, Christ, you are.
You slide into the booth and Harry slides in right next to you, leaving hardly a few inches between you two as he rests his arm against the back of the booth oso he can face you, and, beneath the table, your ankle links with his. You give him a moment to see if he’ll pull his foot loose from yours, but he never does, and it makes your heart race.
“Gonna take off your glasses for me, Harry?” you tilt your head forward - where you’d moved to is closer to the source of the music and it’s harder to hear, all of a sudden, but you can’t bring yourself to pretend that’s why your face gets so close to his. His breath smells like beer and mints, and you can see the smirk spreading further across his face. “I’ve been dying to see your eyes. Bet they’re pretty.” And you’re not quite sure where this confidence is coming from, because you’ve hardly tried to seduce anyone like this, but you’ll lay it on thick for him.
He’s different.
He chuckles and you can feel his breath, hot against your face. It sends a shiver down your spine and you hope the instinct was imperceptible. “Take them off for me, then,” and you do, reaching up to pull the glasses off his nose, and you can tell - just by the feeling of them in your hands - that they’re more expensive than anything you’d ever held in your life.
As if everything before this wasn’t proof enough that you truly were talking to Harry Styles, sliding the glasses down his nose and meeting his eyes really validates it. You can’t help the way your lips part as you reach down to rest his sunglasses on the sticky table and you hope you don’t look as amazed as you’re feeling.
God, you have to be dreaming. The guy you cherry pick from the randoms sitting at a bar is - him. And you’re sitting with him, his fingers dancing across your shoulder blade where his arm is thrown lazily over the back of the booth, your ankles intertwined.
16-year-old you never could’ve believed it, but 22-year old you is having the time of her life.
“You look a bit shocked,” Harry murmurs, barely heard over the pounding music, but you hear it as clearly as if he’d yelled it in your ear.
You shift your mouth closer to his ear, so close that you know your lips graze his skin when you tell him, “Prettier than I’d expected, s’all.” It’s then - with a start - that you feel his other hand drop to your knee, pressing circles into your soft skin. You could nearly moan at the feeling and you know, suddenly, that this’ll definitely go where you want it to, assuming you don’t fuck it up.
And you won’t. Won’t let this opportunity go to waste.
“Ah.” When he tilts his head ever so slightly your lips are hardly a centimeter apart and with one shift forward you could close the gap, press your mouth to his, slip your tongue into his mouth. Force this into exactly the direction you need it to go, feel his hands drop to your hips, pulling you into his lap, cock hard against your core where your dress is riding up your hips.
As soon as you start to lean in, to make every fantasy you’ve had a reality, you feel two fingers, harsh against your shoulder, and they don’t belong to Harry.
You glance up, eyes narrowing at whoever had disrupted you, and standing in front of your booth is Alexa, wearing a small smile reeking of both excitement and guilt. And you can’t bring yourself to be mad at her for interrupting you, even though you want to, as she drops your phone onto the table.
“Sorry for interrupting,” she calls above the music, and you roll your eyes, leaning over Harry’s shoulder to move your head closer to his. In your ear you can hear him groan softly as your chest presses against his, and you can feel his arm that had been over the top of the booth drop to wrap around your waist - exactly where you’d wanted to feel it. “We’re gonna head out. Are you going to come?” The question is innocent but you can tell she already knows the answer as her eyes drop down to Harry’s arm, secure around your waist, fingers rubbing patterns into your hip through your tight, black dress.
“No,” you tell her, and Harry squeezes your hips in approval. “No, I’m gonna stay.”
“Are you sure?”
It’s then that Harry turns his head to look at her, effectively pressing your bodies closer than you’d thought they could go, and you can see the exact moment Alexa recognizes him - the way her eyes widen and her lips part into a smile. You’re not sure if she’s simply shocked that she’s seeing Harry in person or if she’s surprised you’re wrapped around him, but either way, she looks absolutely shell-shocked. “Promise I’ll take good care of her,” Harry tells your friend, and the double entendre makes you shift slightly, thighs rubbing against each other.
He better take good care of you.
You bring your hand up to wave to Alexa and you can’t hear the response she squeaks out before she’s gone, and you don’t look to see her go back to your friends. You merely lean back, just a bit, pressing your hands to Harry’s shoulder to look at him.
“Gonna take good care of me, then?” you raise your eyebrows and you can see Harry’s pupils dilating as he stares at you, and you shift closer to him, practically in his lip. The music changes, then, and you hadn’t been paying attention to it before but now, Bang a Gong seems quite fitting for the moment. “Hope you follow through on that.”
It’s then that he leans forward, eliminating the distance between your faces as his lips press to yours. And you hardly have a moment to even comprehend it as his hand rises to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, and you moan into his mouth just about immediately. Harry’s tongue slips into your mouth and one of your hands drags up to the back of his neck, nails tracing along his sweaty skin. You’re not sure you’ve ever truly appreciated being kissed until right now, feeling his lips slotted against yours, the way his hand is pushing further up your thigh until his fingertips are creeping up the cheap material of your black dress.
You only pull away when you need to catch your breath, and Harry’s arm keeps you so close to him that the thought of regaining your composure seems too far away to consider. You’re not sure you’ll ever recover from that and you know there’s so fucking much more to come and you truly have scored, even if you only end up with kiss swollen lips to show for it.
But you reckon he has a thing for hickeys. It’s just a vibe you get from some guys, and as soon as the thought settles into your brain Harry proves it - mouth moving down to just below your jaw, and you drop your head back with a whine as you feel him beginning to suck a dark mark into your skin. His hand on your hip clutches your dress between his fingers, pulling the material tighter to your body than you’d even thought it could go, and it’s all the leverage he needs to pull you as close to him as you can go without being on top of him.
Which - you aren’t opposed to, but you’d always pictured your first time being below an incredibly handsome man.
(Though, you hadn’t ever pictured your first time being with your teenage crush, so you shouldn’t start relying on your fantasies now, you guess.)
When you shift your leg so it’s hooked across his, he pauses, pulling back to glance at the mark he’d left on your skin. In the dim light in the back of the club you’re not sure how well he’d be able to see it, but he grins as he examines it. Your fingers tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck and you can feel him shiver beneath you and it makes your clit throb. “I think,” he tells you, leaning in so his mouth is right at the bottom of your ear, and you fight back a whimper at how deep his voice had gotten - dropped nearly an octave since the last time he spoke. “I think we should take this somewhere else.”
Harry squeezes your bare thigh, then, fingers just a few inches from the hem of your panties. You’d let him pin you to the booth, fuck you hard where anyone could walk by and see but - of course - that isn’t feasible. And as much as you truly do not care about losing your virginity, you don’t think you want it to be here, so you nod your approval. In an instant he’s out of the booth, fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugging you out after him. You grab his sunglasses and your phone, resting on the sticky table. You stumble as soon as you stand up and you’re not sure why - you think you’re just a bit overwhelmed with everything that had happened in the past 20 minutes, and the fact that Harry fucking Styles is almost certainly taking you to bed.
“Hang on,” you tell him, and when he turns to look back at you with an eyebrow raised, you reach forward to perch his glasses on top of his nose, preserving the anonymity you knew he wanted. He smiles slightly as he reaches up to push them further up his nose, and then he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him as you begin to walk towards the door.
Your friends are gone, you note, as you pass the booth you’d occupied earlier. Your phone, firm in your hand, has been buzzing incessantly since Alexa dropped it off but you haven’t bothered to check what the notifications are - your friends, surely wondering what you were doing, where you were going, when you would be home. And you didn’t know, truly, but you hoped it wouldn’t be anytime soon.
Harry pulls you through the doors of the club into the moist, nighttime air, and immediately you’re shivering - it’s chilly, just a bit. Not too bad, but you can tell it’s just rained by the way your foot sinks into a puddle of water, soaking through your cheap black heels.
You pay it no mind - just keep walking in pace with him, wondering, briefly, if there’ll be a time when you wake up from this. Perhaps right as he slides inside of you, filling you up so good, you’ll squeeze your eyes shut and moan and when you open them you’ll be in your bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing you didn’t have such a rampant imagination.
There’s no way this can truly be real but at the same time it is - the way his fingers tap against your hip feels so real. The way he leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple as he turns you both down the street, it feels like it can’t possibly be a dream.
“What are you thinking about?” his voice sends vibrations rolling through your body and now that you’re free of music blaring through your head, muffling every word the pair of you spoke, you can appreciate it more - the rasp in his tone, how deep and slow he speaks. You could nearly moan at that but you hold back, biting on your tongue to prevent any loose noises from slipping out.
You lean up so your mouth is close to his ear like you had in the club, even though there’s no music surrounding you to make it necessary - you like the way he tightens his grip on your hip when you breathe against his ear. “Just wondering where you’re taking me.”
That wasn’t, in fact, what you were thinking about, but you didn’t think you could muster up the courage right now to tell him how bad you want him inside of you.
Harry points down the street and you squint to what he’s motioning to - “Have a driver waiting for me. Gonna take us to my hotel room, not too far from here.”
“And then what?”
He raises his eyebrow as he glances down at you, and you can see the amusement twinkling in his eyes even on such a dimly lit street. “And then -” he turns into a parking lot, just behind the club you’d been in, and you can hear the distant thumping music from inside - “I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
Christ. You nearly whimper just at the implication and your mind speeds off, leaving your body behind, imagining every single thing he could do to you - or you could do to him - or anything. You can picture a thousand different scenarios and every single one ends with you in his hotel bed, your V-card firmly in his pocket.
It’s then that Harry stops in front of a sleek, black car - raps two knuckles on the tinted window of the driver’s seat and it rolls down almost immediately, as though it had been waiting for his signal. You can’t hear what he murmurs to the driver as he ducks his head inside the window and you don’t strain your mind to try and listen - within a few seconds he’s stepping back, opening the door to the backseat and ushering you inside.
You’d never been in a nicer car before but you shouldn’t be shocked - the outfit he’s wearing tonight could pay your rent for the next four months. There’s a partition between the backseat and the front and you’re beyond thankful as Harry slides in beside you, slamming the door shut, and he doesn’t give you a moment to process anything before his lips are on yours.
You wouldn’t dream of complaining as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you, and he’s groaning into your mouth as his hand drifts downwards to cup your ass through your dress but it’s not enough for him and you can tell. Fingers push up the bottom of the cheap material so he can slip his hand beneath it, hand cold against the back of your thigh and he slides his hand further up until he’s groping your arse once more.
“Fuck,” you breathe, and you can feel Harry smirking against your lips - a smug bastard, he is, but you find you don’t truly care. You pull your mouth from his, feeling his teeth tugging at your bottom lip, but you’re hardly disconnected a moment before you throw your leg over his thighs, straddling him, and he moans like music to your ears.
He uses his grip on your ass to force your hips to rock against the bulge, prominent even through his pants. His other hand tugs your dress up to your hips, letting the material bunch around your waist, and immediately his hand comes down hard on your ass - you squeal, dropping your forehead against his, as he rubs over the spot he’d just smacked.
“Y’like that?” You nod, pressing your lips to the side of Harry’s neck as he lands another slap down on your bum. Your hips press harder into his, feeling the pressure on your clit as you roll against him. “Yeah, know you do. Dirty girl.”
And - you’re not sure why - but you drop your lips to his ear, nibbling on his earlobe and feeling the way his cock twitches beneath you. “Can I tell you something?”
He nods, and you bring your hand up to his hair, running your fingers through his sweaty curls. Harry tilts his head to the side and your lips briefly brush, feather light, as you slow the pace your hips are rocking, savoring every brush of your panty clad clit against the material of his pants. “Anything,” he mutters, head dropping against the headrest, and you reach down to press your palm to his cock. God, he’s so hard and he feels so big too, too big to even fit in you, but you know damn well you’ll try your very best to make it work.
Even if you’ve never done it before, and before you can wonder if it’s the best time or thing to tell him, you lean in. “I’ve never had sex before.”
Harry certainly seems shocked and the way his lips part goes straight to your ego - do you seem so good at all of this that he’d suspected you’d done it time and time again? Maybe he’s confused as to why you told him and truthfully, you are, too. Just felt like the kind of thing he’d like to know. Your ex boyfriend had certainly wanted to know, and two days after you’d told him he’d ended things.
Maybe some guys don’t want to take girls’ virginities, but judging by the way Harry’s fingers dig further into your ass, you suspect he does.
“Never?” There’s the surprise thick in his voice and you nod, grasp on his cock tightening ever so slightly, and he groans beneath you. “God. Never would’ve thought. Bloody good at this.”
Yep, there’s your ego inflating, and you shrug. “Done just about everything else. Just haven’t gotten to the good part.” Another smack lands against your ass and you moan, pushing back against his palm as he smooths his hand over your skin.
He leans back, then, shifting his hips, and you can see his pupils dilating more and more as he glances down at the way your cunt presses to his cock - “Why don’t you show me what you can do, then?”
You’re much more than willing, and you lean in to give Harry one final kiss before pushing yourself off of him and sitting, on your knees, on the seat beside him. He’s watching you so intently you could almost feel judged but you love it - love the way he watches you push your hair behind you, how he reaches down to slowly undo the zipper of his fancy dress pants, but you wanna do it yourself. You push his hand away, wrapping your hand around his wrist, and surely he’s strong enough to resist the dominant act you’re playing if he wanted to but you can tell he doesn’t. You finish unzipping his pants and he lifts his hips slightly so you can shimmy them down his thighs, just enough so you’re face to face with his cock, thick and bulging through his briefs.
You don’t give yourself a moment to examine just how big he is - bigger than you’d anticipated when you were on top of him and when you’d felt him up. You’d sucked off plenty of guys and none of them came close to his size but you’ve mastered the faux confident facade as you shift backwards, leaning down with your ass high in the air to press a soft kiss against Harry’s cock through his boxers.
He groans, those glasses slipping down his nose, and his wandering fingers end up dancing down your back - you’re not sure where he’s going but you shift forward to give him easier access to your ass, if that’s what he wants, and your fingers hook in the waistband of his boxers to pull them over his cock.
Jesus, yeah, he is big. You wrap your hand around him, pumping experimentally a few times, listening to the way Harry moans brokenly. You wonder, briefly, when he’s last done this - he looks as though it’s been a bit too long but, well, you suppose you can’t judge how sensitive he is when just the feeling of his hand splayed across your lower back is wetting your panties faster than anything has before.
Lips press a wet kiss against the tip of his cock, just briefly, before you wrap your lips around his length and push our head down - a gurgled cry escapes his throat and you nearly smirk around him, taking him as far down your throat as you can until your nose is just about brushing his pelvis. Your hands press to his thighs and you can feel him growing stiffer in the confines of your mouth by the second. Fingers tangle in your hair, forcing your head down, and with any other guy you’d roll your eyes but there’s something different about him, something that makes you like the dominance. Any semblance of it that you’d had seconds before is gone and there’s a smack against your ass, causing you to cry out against his cock.
Normally you pull off of guys after 15 seconds (or so) but Harry doesn’t let you, holds you down, and you hollow your cheeks around him. Swallow, and his hips jerk up into your mouth, forcing a gag from you, and then he loosens his grip on your hair, allowing you to pull your mouth from him.
Harry’s breathing is heavy and his hand is groping your ass so tight it nearly hurts but the pleasure overpowers it and you push back against his hand. His fingers tug at your thong, slipping beneath it as you lap at the tip of his cock, and no sooner have his fingers circled your puckered hole - is he gonna do it? - that he slides them further down, running his digits through your soaked folds.
“So - so fucking wet -” his voice cracks as you take him down your throat again but his hand doesn’t force your head down like last time - instead he brings his other hand to your bum and smacks you hard, harder than every other time, and you moan and he moans, and then two of his fingers slip into your cunt and you moan again.
God, it really is happening, because if it wasn’t, you’re sure you’d have woken yourself up in excitement by now. He really is two fingers deep in your pussy while his cock is all the way down your throat, and he really is crying out as you whine against his cock. His digits curl, brushing against that sweet spot in your velvety walls that has you clenching around him, and you think he’s the first guy you’ve ever done anything with whose found your G-spot without 10 minutes of needed assistance.
Your tongue swirls around his cock as you take your mouth from him, throwing your head back with a cry, and your first still pumps him up and down - his fingers are thrusting in and out of you so fast that the sound of your arousal is nearly the same volume as your moans lingered with his. You’re going to cum so fucking hard, first time you’ve cum from anything other than your fingers or your toys, and you roll your hips against his fingers, grasp on his cock tightening.
“Gonna cum -” your eyes roll back into your head as your thumb flicks over the head of Harry’s length, feeling the way his body jerks at the sensation. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop -”
“Gonna cum for me?” his voice is a hiss through gritted teeth as his fingers speed up even more, pumping inside of you so fast that your head is fucking spinning. “Do it, then. My dirty - fucking - girl, cum for me.”
It’s all you needed and you can’t even bring yourself to feel embarrassed at how fast you’re cumming because as soon as the pit in your stomach starts to unravel you can feel his cock twitching in your fist. You can’t think of a single thing to say, vocabulary wiped clean, merely throwing your head back with a noise akin to a scream as you cum on his fingers, and as his hips jerk up, you can feel his release coating your hand.
Harry’s fingers still pump slowly inside of you, prolonging your orgasm until it fades away and in turn you try to do the same to him, hand moving up and down his cock until your breathing steadies from labored pants into something more normal. So you pull your hand off of him, pushing yourself to sit on your knees, cum covering your fingers. And, in an instant, Harry’s fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and you let him guide your hand up to your mouth.
You can tell he’s merely testing you to see if you’ll do it - but, truthfully, you’d wanted him to cum in your mouth, anyway, if only to prove something to him, or to yourself. So you stick your tongue out, lap a thick stripe through his cum on your hand, dripping down your wrist, and Harry’s lust ridden eyes watch you, lips parted and breathing picking up again.
Your eyes never leave his as you lick up the last of his release on your hands, swallowing every last bit of it, and when you open your mouth to stick your tongue out - proving to him that you took every single goddamn drop - his hand flies to the back of your neck, pulling your head in, and your lips connect with a clash of teeth.
“Like a fucking angel,” Harry groans, pressing his fist to the car seat next to you, and the feeling of him hovering ever so slightly above you makes the buzzing in your head that much more intense. His other hand works at tucking himself back into his pants, zipping them up, and you figure it’s good to pull your dress down to cover your ass, too. “My fuckin’ perfect girl. Jesus Christ.”
You can feel the car slowing to a stop and you’re entirely too ready to go up to Harry’s bedroom and have your goddamn brains fucked out. You already feel like you’re on cloud 9 with one orgasm down, one so intense and brutal, one that you reckon nothing but him could muster up, and that’s just his fingers - you need to know what his cock’ll do to you.
His hand falls back down to your waist where it seems to love to reside and he squeezes your hip, leaning in to nibble at your bottom lip again. You grin lazily, then reach up and push his sunglasses back up his nose where they’d slid down the bridge ever so slightly. “Want you t’fuck me,” you breathe, voice raspy in all of its post-orgasm glory. “Never gotten fucked by anyone before but I need you - swear, I’ve never cum so hard in my life.”
Harry chuckles and turns to glance out the window - then he grabs the door handle and pushes it open. When you’ve both clambered out of the car his arm is around you in a heartbeat, and you need the support, legs feeling shaky, and you take just a moment to glance up at the hotel you’re walking into - nicer than anything you’d ever been in in your life but you feel a bit more used to it by now.
“Tell me,” Harry mutters, leaning his lips close to your ear, as the automatic doors slide open for the pair of you to walk into the hotel lobby. “How many guys have made you cum before, hmm?”
“None,” is your response, turning your head to the side so you can witness the shock that overtakes Harry’s face - you can’t see his eyes but you’re sure they’re wide. “Told myself I didn’t want to fuck a guy who didn’t know where the clit is, and - well, none of them did.”
He chuckles as you two make your way through the lobby towards the elevators - it feels wrong for you to even be here, walking by people who see more money every day than you have in your life, in your dress you’d gotten at the thrift store and your heel still slightly wet. But being with Harry, having his arm around you, makes you feel decidedly less awkward, because you’re sure millions of girls would positively die to do what you’re about to do.
But you get to do it, and if that isn’t the best feeling in the world.
He stops in front of the elevator and presses the button to go up, and the doors open almost immediately - such a gentleman, he is, letting you step in first, and when you’re both in you watch the button for the very top floor light up as he pushes it.
“You’re in for the night of your life,” Harry tells you as the elevator doors slide shut, and you’re entirely expecting him to pin you to the wall but he doesn’t - incredible composure, really, staring straight ahead like he can’t feel the desperation practically dripping from your body. You stare at him, for a moment, at his side profile, jaw set. Like he isn’t as needy as you are, but, as your eyes trail down his body to the bulge already hardening again in his pants, you know that he is.
It seems like an eternity later that the elevator doors slide open again, and you want to race down the hall to his room but you let him lead the way, even if his pace is pathetically slow as he strolls down the hallway. There are only two rooms up this high, on either ends of the hall, and his is to the left of the elevators and it seems so much further than the one to the right.
But you make it there, and Harry’s reaching in his pockets to find his key card - and then he’s swiping it - and then he’s pushing open the door - and as soon as it shuts again, you’re pressed firm against the wall. Your hands fly to the back of his head as his drop to your back, trailing downwards to cup at your ass again (he seems to have a thing for it, but you would never think of complaining.) Your lips press to his as your head falls back against the door, and his hips jerk forward to roll against yours.
You still feel entirely too sensitive and you moan out, pushing your hips forward to meet his as you pull his face closer to yours, using your arms around his neck as leverage to pull him in, but you didn’t need it - you can tell he’s just as desperate as you are, and soon he pulls you off of the door, backing you up to God knows where. You let him lead you until your legs hit something and you fall backwards onto a plush couch, pushing yourself onto your elbows to watch Harry as he drops to his knees before you.
Oh, shit.
Your cheeks heat up as he rests his hands on your knees, spreading your thighs apart. Harry’s hand rises up to his sunglasses, perched, still, on his nose, and he pulls them off, resting them on the coffee table behind him. His eyes meet yours and perhaps he can see the apprehension in your eyes because he leans up, pressing a kiss to your lips. You savor the moment, the sweetness of his tongue entering your mouth, before he lowers himself back down onto his knees. Hands go to the bottom of your dress, rolling it over your hips until it can settle around your waist, exposing your entire bottom half to him, and it feels so much more intimate now that you’re not confined to the backseat of a car.
Harry leans in without giving you a breath to collect yourself, pressing a kiss to your clit through your arousal-soaked lace panties - your hand drops to the couch, squeezing the edge of the cushion between your fingers, and you can already feel your slight embarrassment slipping away as Harry pushes your thigh, forcing it further open.
“Tell me,” he says, deep and hot with how close he is to your cunt, and your hips roll of their own accord at the feeling. “How many guys have done this to you?”
You pause to think, chest rising and falling as he leans in again, licking up your panties, and the sensation makes it a bit difficult to gather yourself enough to respond - eventually, though, you swallow and say, “Not too many. One or two.”
He leans back, pressing a kiss to your thigh. “And they never made you cum.”
“N - no.”
“Well, I will,” is his response, and, as cocky as it may seem, you know he’s right - could probably make you cum through your panties, but his fingers hook in the top of them as soon as the thought pops in your mind. You lift your hips up so he can drag them down your legs, and when they’ve puddled by your feet he helps you take them off. You watch as he crumbles the lacey material in his hands and then stuffs it into the pockets of his fancy pants - for later, he murmurs against your thigh. And then he goes in - hands on your thighs forcing them apart so hard it nearly burns but you find you like the stretch, and his lips wrap around your clit, cheeks hollowing as he sucks on the small nub.
Your head drops back against the couch and you bury your hand in his hair, a loud moan escaping your throat. He wasn’t teasing you and you were beyond grateful - tongue laps up every drop of wetness that gushes in your cunt, kitten licks against your clit, and you can tell he has more experience than you could have imagined. Harry has it mastered, exactly where to place his hands (one on your thigh, the other creeping its way beneath the material of your dress towards your tits) and how to flick his tongue just right to have your hips bucking up against his mouth. And if you thought you’d cum hard in the car you know you’re in for a fucking treat because there’s already pressure building in your stomach and it won’t be long until it fucking erupts.
When you squeeze your eyes shut he stops - pulls away, his mouth and his hands, like he’d never been there in the first place. You open your eyes, chest heaving as you stare down at him. His pupils are lust blown and wide as he stares at you, eyebrows raised, as if you’re meant to know something he never told you - “Eyes open,” he tuts, tone condescending and smug, and you hate how much you love it. “Keep them open. Gonna watch me make you fall apart, alright?” You nod slowly. “Tell me.”
Your voice is caught in your throat as Harry’s lips form a small o, breathing a puff of air onto your beyond sensitive clit, and your fingers in his curls tighten to what has to hurt - but he moans, ever so slightly, as you finally breathe, “Yes. Okay.”
“S’what I thought,” is his response, and then he leans back in, licking up your soaked folds as though no time had passed. Both of his palms press against your thighs, pinching your soft skin, fingers dangerously close to the area he’s working so well. God, his fingers, you swear you’ve never felt anything better than them - you want them again, so bad, hitting your sweet spot so good.
You can’t begin to get the words out to tell him that, though, so you merely reach down, shaky fingers wrapping around his wrist and pushing it closer to your cunt - he pauses, tongue mid-swirl around your clit, and looks up at you with a glint of pure cockiness in his eyes.
“What do you want?” he doesn’t remove his mouth from around your clit as he speaks and the vibrations roll through your body, sending a cry through your throat, and you push his hand further towards your cunt. You know it won’t be enough - haven’t known Harry for quite long at all, but you reckon you know that much about him. “Use your words,” and Harry sounds so fucking commanding that it could make you cum right then and there.
“F - fingers,” you just about sob out, rolling your hips up into his mouth so your clit brushes against his tongue. “Please, Harry - need your fingers, please -”
“Fingers, hmm?” His digits dance across your thighs, straying further away from where you need him, and your eyes just about roll back into your head as he pulls his mouth from your clit and blows on it again. “Where do you want my fingers?”
But you’re too far gone to speak - as he leans in to brush his tongue against your sensitive clit once more, you can feel the pit in your tummy starting to come undone. You drop your head back as Harry licks a thick stripe up to your sensitive nub, and he stops again, pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. “Does my dirty girl want my fingers in her pussy, hmm? S’that where you want my fingers?”
You moan out in affirmation.
Harry pulls his head from your thigh and you push yourself so you’re sitting up more, getting a clear view of everything he’s doing as he spits on your pussy, the saliva dripping down onto your clit, and you fucking cry out. His fingers come up to collect the spittle, rubbing it along your clit before dragging it down your folds so he can push them into your pussy - curling up immediately, knowing exactly the spot that makes you squirm. His other hand comes up and lands a firm smack against your clit, one that has your eyes rolling back into your head.
It only takes a few quick pumps of his curled fingers, in and out of your fluttering cunt, that has you cumming so hard you swear you see stars. Every single sob that breaks free from your throat is so loud that you swear the neighbors in the room at the other end of the hall must be able to hear you - should send them a flower arrangement tomorrow morning, because it’s just his mouth and fingers that has you screaming bloody murder.
“Oh my god -” your hips jerk against his mouth, your hands in his hair dropping back down to the cushions. “Fuck.”
Coming down from your second high of the evening is entirely different from your first - you can’t imagine how you’ll possibly be able to pull anymore from you but, as Harry stands up, your slick covering his mouth and chin, you know you have to.
The whole point is to fuck him. To finally know what everyone’s talking about - to see what the fuss is all about.
Harry leans down, tongue forcing its way down your throat the second your lips part for him, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. Your arousal mixed with the beer he’d had earlier, all traces of the mint washed away, and it tastes so divine. Even more divine as his hands drop to the zipper of his pants, sliding it down, and you slide your fingers in the waistband, helping him tug them down his thighs. He kicks them off as soon as they’re near his feet and then he pulls away, palm pressing against the bulge in his briefs.
“How do you want it?” he asks, words dripping with lust and desperation and you know the exact way he’s feeling and more. You watch him intently as he grips the bottom of his sweater and tugs it over his head - it drops to the rug atop the ground and you let your eyes soak in the sight of him, almost fully nude, briefly ignoring the question.
You hadn’t necessarily expected him to ask. He seems more dominant than that, needing to take control, so you swallow, chest heaving as you try to think. “I don’t - I don’t know.”
He seems to have been expecting that answer, because his hands fall to your waist, pushing you down so you’re lying on the couch. It’s spacious, just enough room for you to adjust yourself comfortably, and Harry lowers himself down on top of you the second you’ve shifted enough.
“How’s this?”
And his caring demeanor is shocking but fitting, because as much as you merely want to get your virginity out of the way, it does feel like a sort of important moment. You want it to be comfortable, and lying on the plushiest couch you’ve ever been on with Harry hovering above you, his arm inches above your head, is about as comfortable as you’re going to get.
You loop your arms around his neck and you can feel his clothed cock, pressed to your cunt. He’s so fucking hard and you’re amazed at the amount of composure he has. “Perfect,” you mumble, leaning up to attach your lips once more (you swear, you can’t get enough of him.)
Harry tugs down his boxers, just enough to free his cock from the flannel confines, and you can feel his tip, running along your folds - he slaps it on your clit and you groan. You drop your head back against the arm of the couch as he sinks his tip into your cunt. Slowly, steadily, he pushes himself the rest of the way in, stuffing you so deliciously full of him that it nearly overtakes the pain.
Nearly.
You’ve used dildos before and you’re thankful for it, now, because you reckon without any sort of experience you’d feel absolutely split in half. Even now, there’s a dull burn sparking between your thighs, and you drop your head back, eyes squeezing shut as you try to adjust to the feeling. No, it didn’t necessarily hurt but it was different and that in itself was enough for you to need a moment to adjust. The way his cock twitched inside of you every so often encouraged you and subsequently turned you on beyond belief, and you don’t need too much time to adjust, after all.
Harry’s breathing is heavy and you can feel it against your face, barely an inch above yours. Poor guy, must be torture, holding out, because you can practically sense how needy he is. You lift your head up to press your lips to his, soft like the brush of a butterfly’s wing, before pulling back. “Move - fuck, please, move, Harry.”
He didn’t need to be told twice, pulling his hips back before thrusting them back in. That is certainly different, verging on the border of pain, but with a few more slow pumps, in and out of your dripping cunt, the pleasure is beginning to take it over.
It takes a moment to find a rhythm that’s enough for both of you. There’s still a slight discomfort but not enough to make you want to wait any longer. You’re finally having sex and you want it to keep going, to do it forever and ever with the absolute God hovering above you.
“So goddamn tight,” Harry grunts as he rocks his hips into yours. “Squeezing me so good. Never fucked anyone so tight in my life, I swear.”
His compliments, whether they were in the heat of the moment or genuine, makes you moan out - makes this entire thing feel so much better.
And fuck, it truly does feel good, especially when he angles his hips just so, every thrust sweeping against that sweet spot deep inside of you that he’s so adept at finding. For the first minute or so you’re fine with the leisurely pace he’s doing but you can tell it’s killing him and it’s starting to kill you, too. You’ve never been too patient, even if you’d waited 22 years for this exact moment.
You’re not a virgin. It feels good, the invisible badge of honor and the cock, going entirely too slow for your liking, deep in your pussy.
“Faster - need you to go faster,” you gasp as Harry’s thumb drops to your clit, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive nub, and they’re immediately a sharp contrast to the way he pulls his hips out and slams them back in. This is what he wanted, what he needed, and it’s what you need, too. No slow pumps. You need him fucking fast and hard and God it feels good, the way he presses down on your clit, sending pleasure coursing through your veins. “Feel so good inside me. God, keep doing that.”
Harry braces a hand on top of the couch, lifting his body slightly off of yours to piston his cock in and out of your cunt, taking him greedily and fully. He’d been with plenty of girls before - more than he could count - but there was something different, being the first guy to fill you up, to fuck you so hard you saw stars. And it was bloody good, watching you beneath him, your mouth falling open with a broken moan, pushing your pelvis up towards his, trying to help him along.
“Such a dirty girl,” Harry rasps, reaching down to grab the top of your dress - should’ve taken it off of you, really - and he pulls it down so aggressively you’re sure the fabric will rip. Your tits spill out of the top, covered only by your bra, and his fingers hook in the cups, pulling them away from your breasts, and in an instant his head is lowered to flick his tongue against your nipple. “Feels so good, hmm? Getting fucked for the very first time? Poor baby - never had a dick before. Tell me how - tell me how it feels.”
Your head is fucking spinning, is how it feels, and you’re not sure you’re going to be able to talk for days to come. You sob out your response, barely audible, but Harry hears it as if you’d spoken loud and clear - “So good, fuck, gonna cum.”
Two of his fingers pluck at your clit like the strings of a guitar, as if you’re merely something to be played with, but it’s enough to send you over the edge again. Your body convulses beneath him, eyes squeezing shut. Your cunt fluttering around him could make him cum but you can tell he wants to hold out - wants to see if you have one more in you, and you’re not sure if you do.
It’s as though Harry can sense the second you’ve milked your orgasm for all you can, because he pulls out of you the second you’re done. Before you can cry out, his hands grab your hips and flip you over with such ease it’s nearly embarrassing. You hardly have the muscle strength to hold yourself up, merely dropping your face into the cushion as his hands position himself at your cunt, pushing in without giving you a second to adjust, and it’s back to the hard, steady pace you’d reached before.
This position is a fucking change and one you love, a new angle letting him reach spots inside of you that you hadn’t even known existed. Your moans are muffled where your mouth is pressed to the cushion but Harry’s are loud and clear, piercing the air near violently as he cries out. You can’t see him but you try with all your might to picture exactly what he’s doing - picturing how his mouth is open and his eyes are shut and he’s lifting his hand to land it back down on your -
As though he can read your thoughts his hand goes up and smacks down on your ass, the noise cracking through the air, and you sob out at the feeling. You love that, you really do, and you’d never have expected yourself to but as he sends another slap to your skin you decide it’s one of your favorite things you’ve done this whole fucking evening.
“Gonna cum,” Harry grunts, hand gripping your thigh to rock your body in time with his. You wiggle your ass, pushing it against him, and for that, you earn another smack. “Where d’you want me to cum? Want it on your back, hmm? Or maybe flip you over again and cum on your pretty tits.”
You can’t verbalize anything, nothing except for broken cries and his name falling off your lips like a mantra, and he knows it.
“Or -” and his voice drops nearly a whole fucking octave, deeper than you’d even thought it could go, and you’re so close to your fourth that your ears are starting to ring - “does my dirty girl want me to cum in her pussy? Fill you up with my cum, fuck you so good until you’re stuffed with it.”
It’s that - his words, fucking filthy and rising above every other noise the two of you make - that ends you. Sends you hurtling into your fourth, now, the couch practically absorbing your moan (or more like a scream) and any ability you’d had to hold yourself up on shaky legs dissipates as you collapse against the couch but Harry’s there, holding you up, forcing your hips back into his you were made for it.
You don’t need to say anything - he knows what you want, can read you like a book by now, and you’ve only known him for tonight. So as his cock gives its final twitch inside your cunt, worn out from cumming four times in such a short amount of time, he makes no move to pull out. Just grips your hips and holds them close to his, and the feeling of hot ribbons of cum shooting into your cunt, filling you up exactly the way you’d wanted, is a sensation you don’t think you’ll ever forget.
When he’s done, pulling out slowly, you collapse fully onto the couch with nothing to hold you up - you’re fucking exhausted but you’ve never felt better in your life. A haze seems to be settling over your mind and body, preventing you from paying any attention to anything that’s not Harry as he stands up above you. And then you feel him, wrapping his arms around you, picking you up like a goddamn baby and you like it a lot.
You’re entirely too close to falling asleep in his arms before he lies you down on a surface softer than the couch - has to be the bed, the rich hotel beds, and as your head lands on the pillow you know you’re correct. God, feels like a pillow, and you’d like to spend the rest of your life right here.
Harry’s like a God in human form, truly, getting a warm washcloth from the restroom to wipe at the cum dripping down your thighs. You two speak in soft, hushed voices, as though making up for the absolutely inhuman noises you’d made before, as he pulls your dress over your head and deposits it on the ground. It is ripped, you can see, but you find you don’t really care. Not like you didn’t get it for less than $10 - and it’s just a reminder of every amazing thing that happened tonight, not that you’d ever need one. You know you’ll remember this night forever.
Finally he lies down beside you, shifting so he’s spooning you, arms firm around your waist and your head to his shoulder. This feels perfect, exactly what you needed to end off your first time perfectly.
“M’not a virgin anymore,” you murmur, adjusting yourself to press your body closer to his. “Feels good. Feel like I’m finally living.”
Harry chuckles at that, pressing a kiss to the side of your face. “Hope your first time was as good as it could be.”
You exhale softly. “It was perfect,” you tell him, voice soft and dripping with emotions you can’t possibly decipher. And it’s the absolute truth - even if your first time wasn’t with a boyfriend you were in love with, like your friends, you don’t think you’d ever have it any other way. “Maybe we could do it again, some time.”
Probably a mistake to ask, but there’s nothing to lose, really. Maybe a piece of your dignity if he says no, but it doesn’t hurt to ask. You’d do this a thousand times over again with him without hesitating.
He takes a beat to respond and you know you fucked up, already squeezing your eyes shut in regret, but then he rasps, “Definitely gotta do it again. Tomorrow night … and the night after that … and the night after that …” and you know you’re in for it.
#harry styles smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#can u tell i rushed the ending#harry styles blurb
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So I’m not a historian, but I just finished posting my medieval AU fanfic that included a medieval trans character, so I thought I’d ramble a bit about some of the research I did prior to writing it. There’s this idea that Western society believed in an absolute binary of men and women until Stonewall happened and introduced Western cis people to the concept of gender not being rigidly set in stone, but that’s just not the case. So here’s a brief overview of some specific cases I found along the lines of “Medieval and early modern people were thinking about gender too.”
The first is the one I think about most often. This is actually a little bit after the medieval period, in the 16th century, but still interesting. There was a person in the little town of Vitry-le-Fran ois who lived as a man. He was married to a woman and worked as a weaver. Tragically, his marriage lasted only 5 months before someone recognized him as “[birth name]” and he was tried and condemned (for the crime of using a dildo). But, he was given the option to go back to wearing skirts and live as a respectable woman. He rejected the offer, and chose to be hanged rather than live as a woman.
I just think about him a lot, and how much I wish he could come to the 21st century and see how the world has changed. He is also the person I always think about when I see the claim that all trans men in history were just “women trying to live with more freedom.” Because if it was only about trying to live a better life, then choosing any life at all would be better than death.
The second story involves another person from France in 1601. Thankfully, his chosen name was recorded - Marin began sleeping with a woman while they were both working as chambermaids in Rouen, but after a few weeks, he told her he was in fact a man, and proposed marriage. Before their marriage, though, Marin was accused of sodomy for being a “woman” trying to marry another women. However, he plead his case and asked for a medical examination, and after a genital exam, the doctor declared Marin had “a hidden but functional penis.” I read this as him being intersex. The court demanded he dress as a woman for 4 years in hope that the situation would clear up, but after those 4 years passed, he was allowed to go back to presenting as male, married his wife, and lived the rest of his life as a man.
This story is interesting because it demonstrated that people in 1601 were ready to accept “huh! sex and gender are complicated! I guess it is possible for someone to change from one thing to another!”
And the reason they accepted this is because of the “one sex model,” the idea that male and female are just two ends of a spectrum and all humans fall somewhere on that spectrum with the potential to shift position. This model is not exactly correct, because they also believed that it had to do with body temperature and that if a woman’s body temperature raised too much she would spontaneously grow a penis, but it is very interesting that 400 years ago, academics realized that sex is much more complicated than “you’re either A or B” but in our enlightened 21st century, we have to argue about that again.
Cross-dressing saints are also common in hagiography. One example is Joseph von Schönau, a celebrated monk who joined the abbey of Schönau in 1187 after a life of travel in Europe and the Middle East. What’s interesting is that during his deathbed confession, when he came clean to the priest about all his other secrets and sins in life, he said nothing about his sex.
There is another story I recall that, for the life of me, I can’t find the source for now. In that one, a saint lives his entire life in an abbey as a man. During his life, a local woman accused him of fathering her child. He could have easily disproved the accusation by explaining that he didn’t have a penis, but instead accepted the child as his and accepted the shame and disdain from his fellow monks. They only realized he couldn’t have been the father after his death.
My next two stories are fictional:
The first is the 13th century French story Roman de Silence. This is the story of a woman whose father needed a son to inherit, so when she was born, he decided to raise her as a boy. Throughout the story, personifications of “Nature” and “Nurture” argue over which of them determines who a person is. Throughout the story, Silence becomes a knight, captures Merlin in a prophecy twist (of the “no man can defeat Merlin” sort), reveals her sex in the end and marries a king. I actually think it’s more interesting to read Silence as a trans woman, despite being what we today would “assign female.” She was assigned male by her father, and grows up feeling conflicted about this.
Silence isn’t an example of a real life trans masc knight, but the story overall is exploring the question, “What exactly is it that makes someone a man vs a woman?” This says to me that Medieval People Were Thinking About This Too, and the idea that man and woman could be more complicated than looking at a baby’s genitals has been around for a long, long time.
My favourite fictional story is Yde et Olive, another 13th century French romance. This one tells the story of Yde, a princess being forced into a marriage she hates. Rather than go through with it, they dress as a man and run away. Over the course of Yde’s adventures, they learn how to fight with a sword, take down bandits, and end up as a knight in a foreign king’s court. The king is so impressed with Yde that he arranges for them to marry his daughter, Olive. Yde confesses to Olive that the marriage will never work because of his sex, but Olive says she doesn’t mind and will keep their secret, which, y’know, #Bi Princess. But someone overheard the conversation! And now the king will have them put to death for same-sex relations! (even though... he’s the one who insisted they marry). Yde prays to God for a miracle, and God responds by magically transforming Yde into a cis man. The day is saved and Yde lives happily ever after as a man with his wife. They have a son named Croissant.
My research mostly focused on transmasc stories, but I have to at least add the suggestion to read up on Choisy, an 18th century French transfem person. She wrote a novel (Histoire) about a child who was raised as a girl with no idea that having a penis meant people would think she was a boy. When her mother eventually tells her that she is “male,” she simply does not believe it. She goes on to marry a Marquis, and realizes she must tell him that she is allegedly male, only for the Marquis to tell her that he is, in fact, "female.” They go on to live happily ever after as a t4t couple.
Anyway, as I said, I am not a historian and this is not academically rigorous, but some interesting stories I came across while researching. I wouldn’t say any of these suggest that trans people were common and accepted by broader society throughout history, but they do show that people over the centuries have been thinking about gender, what it means to be a man or woman, and how the line between those can be blurry. This is far from being a 21st century exclusive discussion.
Unfortunately, hand-wringing hysteria about trans people is also nothing new, because I also came across several instances of medieval writers fretting about the idea of “men disguising themselves as women to sneak into convents and have sex with nuns.” Truly, the world never changes.
Sources:
Ferguson, Gary. "Early Modern Transitions: From Montaigne to Choisy." L'Esprit Créateur 53, no. 1 (2013): 145-57.
Hotchkiss, Valerie. “Clothes Make the Man: Female Cross Dressing in Medieval Europe.” Garland Publishing, 1996.
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