#CLEANING THE FUCKING BUILDING BECAUSE THEY ARE HOUSEKEEPERS????

[goodguydotmp3]

I swear to unions if anyone ever tries to tell me that british people are nice and polite were fighting because most people here are actually so nasty all the fucking time.

What the fuck do you mean its not housekeeping job to help clean? Their fucking housekeeping. What else would they be doing but keeping fucking house.

[faevi]

HEAT WAVES. - (gojo smut)

Scenario: The heatwave is unbearable and your landlord threatens you with a bill. You find yourself desperate to make money before losing your home. Good thing, your kind boss Gojo Satoru is here to save you.

Word Count: 20,486 (i'm so sorry LMAO).

Content / Trigger Warning: female reader (she/her). DARK CONTENT (i mean it), manipulation, corruption, bribing, brainwashing, dubcon, sacrilegious, worshipping (a human as a god), dacryphilia, humiliation, fear of becoming homeless, fear in general, degradation, possessiveness, innocence (doesn’t know much about sex asides from what media teaches aka it’s mostly beneficial for the man), loss of virginity, master kink, handjob, blowjob, fucking reader’s mouth, swallowing cum, fingering, cunningulous, unprotected sex, creampie, slapping (on the breasts), pain, bowing to a man, so i guess sorta dehumanising content, sadism/masochism, hickeys, pet-names, satoru really is just.. lowkey nasty & immoral - but he cares in his own way, obsessed gojo, really messy - saliva, cum, etc. he cums twice, huge cock, dirty talk, reader is referred to as a maid —

i think that’s it? please (kindly) let me know if i unintentionally missed something.

Note: Important to warn that there’s mentions of stress about money and losing a home, so desperation to not become homeless etc. If this is a sensitive topic for you, please don’t read! But also remember that this is just fiction and in no shape or form do I agree with such actions in real life. Absolutely not. I would not want anyone to ever be in this position. I wish I don’t have to state the obvious but alas, better to be careful. People enjoy things differently within fiction compared to the real world. Look at people who love horror, for example. Fiction doesn't equal real world, please remember. <3 p.s. not my best writing and i'll always say that. always room for improvement. If you find any mistakes, please ignore!

I also want to give a little thank you to @mochimooon for listening to my idea, helping me out & even inspiring some of my writing/quotes. Please check them out! c:

I hope you enjoy if you’re reading and please let me know if you do! <3

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Fuck, it’s hot.

Obnoxiously so, you think as you hover your face in front of your fan that sits on top of your dresser. It’s small & cheap. Just like most things in your very tiny apartment. You frown in annoyance as the fast-spinning fans begin to stutter. “Don’t you dare.” You threaten the piece of junk before sighing and tugging the third drawer, angling it right so it actually opens. Hands blindly pull out the last set of pants in hopes of wearing them for your shift. You ignore with guilt of the pile of washing sitting in the corner. In your defence— You’ve been too busy worrying about bills and your health than dirty clothes.

Bills. The absolute pain of your existence, minus the current heatwave that has hit the city like a tonne of bricks, surprising everyone. You bring the piece of clothing to your nose, sniffing. “Excellent, sniff test passed.” You joke lightly before holding them to your legs… There’s a big hole directly in the middle of the pant leg. A whine falls naturally from your parted lips, feeling almost disbelief at how things aren’t going your way this morning. One hair grips your hair anxiously, wondering what you could wear to your shift.

It may just be a housekeeping job but, you’re still supposed to look somewhat presentable. The only options you have are tiny shorts. They may be a blessing for this heatwave because it’s not so suffocating but there’s just no way… Is there? You think for a moment, falling down onto your bed and hearing it creak.

The man you housekeep for; Gojo Satoru, is usually at the office building, trusting you enough with a key to come in, clean up and do other duties before greeting him briefly in the evening and leaving. Sometimes you catch him in the morning to wish him a good day and he’s always wearing that handsome grin on his face, crystal blue eyes holding warmth. It always made your day better when you saw him. Satoru is a good boss to have! That’s all. He’s nice enough to understand most situations and pays your wage the proper hourly rate. Surely, he’d understand the misery of working in heat (you just know it’s hot, even when the aircon is blowing) and that shorts are the solution. He won’t be there to see how tiny they are until the very end and it is long forgotten until the next day.

Yeah. You think it may work. You being the professional and polite girl that you are, will still ask him through a message on your phone. You crawl over to snatch your phone up, ignoring how your heart starts to speed up, cheeks all hot. It’s the weather. You breathe in deeply, fingers rapid on the keyboard before you press enter and toss your phone, suddenly feeling flustered.

{ Y/N } good morning, sir! i hate to trouble you before i even arrive, especially since you must be busy getting ready to leave. do you think it’s okay if i change my uniform for today and wear shorts? the heatwave is calling for a change! i promise to still work hard!

It was mere seconds before you heard your phone vibrate, frantically grabbing it to read his response.

{ boss 😇 } mornin’! go for it :) maybe i’ll wear shorts too 😌.

An amused giggle falls from your lips, mind-visioning the sight of the tall male in a pair of shorts at his workplace. It’d be a sight to see. Perhaps a sight you’re actually starting to crave… Shorts to reveal his toned thighs? You frantically shake your head to snap out of the thoughts, almost embarrassed to catch yourself thinking of your boss like that. “Stay professional, Y/N..” You mumble before you finally stand up to get ready, actively trying to think of anything else besides the overdue bills and your charming boss.

--------------

Finally ready to leave for work, you hastily grab your bag and move towards the short hallway. You briefly pause to inspect yourself in the mirror, cheeks feeling hotter than before. The pair of shorts were— Well… /short/. Tightly fitted around mid-thigh, fabric cupping around your ass cheeks and threatening to ride up with every small movement. Your shirt is sadly your typical polo work shirt. It’s a bit baggy so you’re able to move freely but regrettably not long enough to hide your lower half. The first button on the shirt is undone to pitifully attempt to cool off in the heat, only wishing the other two were undone as well.

You sigh softly, pinching the bridge of your nose. Satoru won’t be home as you work around his loft. Maybe if you move fast enough, he won’t even have time to check out your temporary uniform change before you step into the elevator in the meeting. You breathe in deeply, index finger pressing against the mirror. “It’s fine! Just go succeed the—“

There’s a loud knock on the door. Your head snaps towards it before hastily approaching to yank the door open. You have to use force to even open it. You often try to mention that it seems dangerous if there’s a fire hazard. What if you get stuck? You’re face to face with your landlord. An unpleasant old man who just shoves multiple envelopes against your chest.

“Your rent is overdue, here. Also got your other mail for you. If you don’t pay by the end of the week, you’re outta here.”

Your eyes widen, hands clammy as you take hold of the envelopes, your heart drastically sinking. “Wh-What? I just paid—“ You attempt to defend yourself and it only falls on deaf ears as the landlord grins at you. “Don’t care, that’s your problem. Not mine. Seven days, Y/N.” He warns before hoisting up his pants and moving down the hallway, probably eager to torment his next victim. You hastily rip open the envelopes to see the amount of money you owe. It’s not only rent but, other necessities as well. Tears threaten to spill and you bring a hand up to wipe at your eyes.

How are you going to get this large amount of money before the week ends? You’ll be kicked out and have nowhere to go. Living out of your car would be the last resort and the one you’re forced to take. A shaky breath escapes, stuffing the envelopes into your backpack before slamming the door shut behind you. You have to get to work. It’s the only way you get money even… if it’s not going to be enough. Still, your heart feels thankful towards Gojo Satoru for hiring you and you weren’t gonna let him down.

So quietly, mind swirling with disastrous thoughts and eyes stinging; you travel to work.

--------------

You find yourself on the top floor of one of the tallest buildings in the city, keycard swiping against the small machine lodged into the wall and pressing the four-digit code. The door unlocks and smoothly opens as you push it. Nothing like your one. You didn’t bump into Satoru on the ground floor as he usually makes his way out. So naturally you just assume that he’s left for the day. It’s a relief to you. You’re paranoid that your face is all puffy from crying hard in the car; cursing at bills and the heat.

Ugh, the heat. Thank goodness for the gentle cool air blowing through the vents. Did the man in charge of you turn it on for you before he left? You smile softly, dropping your backpack in the usual corner. People often depict Satoru as this overly confident man without a care in the world, often oblivious to how selfish he can be — He may have his moments but, you know how kind he can be. Not to mention hot… You frantically shake your head, hands slapping against your cheeks. “Now’s not the time to be giddy over your dumb crush on your boss. Work.” You mumble under your breath, teeth gnawing on your lower lip.

You open one of the many doors in the long hallway to reveal your cleaning supplies. Satoru allows you to keep it in his home so you don’t have to tug it along for each journey. Yet again, kind. Finally, you get to work and desperately try to ignore how tight the flimsy shorts feel around your ass each time you bend over. You also try to ignore the haunting thoughts of your bills.

It’s going to be a long day…

--------------

Satoru isn’t in the office building today. He decided to stay home, unable to be coaxed out of the penthouse because of the nasty heatwave. That and he’s been ‘inspired’ by a very polite text message about shorts and why the hell would he leave now? The white-haired man glances towards the office door that’s slightly ajar, listening to muffled sounds of you already starting to work. Utterly oblivious to him being home.

Fuck, he finds you so cute. He remembers since the day he met you that he’d hire you instantly. Bowing towards him and looking so innocent as you express eagerness to be his maid— He refuses to call you ‘housekeeper’. It’s far too boring. It’s a pity that society deems it unethical and also impractical to wear pretty maid dresses to work. Now it’s a dumb polo shirt and usually pants. Usually… Not today. His gaze is wide and manic. He’s so eager to see you in a pair of shorts. The white-haired male doesn’t care if they’re just baggy basketball shorts either. Shorts are shorts. Shorter than pants. Skin is showing. Your soft, pretty skin.

Satoru groans quietly, annoyed with his stubbornness to hide for a while before surprising you. He wants to see you now. Long fingers thread through his white hair, crystal blue eyes falling back to his laptop and lips forming a natural pout, typing dramatically slow on the keyboard with one hand. Still, it will be worth it to see you let your guard down before being surprised by his presence. He can already tell that you’d behave so cute that it’s a miracle he won’t bend you over any flat surface and pound into you until you’re a babbling mess. “Safe to say you’re obsessed and want your dick wet with her cute pussy, Satoru..” He mutters beneath his breath, snorting.

Obsessed feels like an understatement. Satoru feels his infatuation for you grow deeply every day. Every single time you bid him farewell and smiled so sweetly, leading him to jerk himself on the couch with your name escaping his lips. He even deliberately goes late to work just to catch you in the morning, swearing you’re the reason for a good day and everything going his way. Nearly everything. He often thinks of just how exactly he could really get you to be his. It’d be scary to a normal person if they could ever read his mind and realise the dark thoughts he has to try and charm you. It’s just so hard when you’re determined to stay professional and keep things to be strictly business. So yeah, maybe he has to stick to his filthy fantasies for now. Satoru always gets what he wants in the end. He just needs to be patient.

The penthouse is big and with a glance at the time, Satoru assumes you’re in the kitchen by now to clean and prepare meals. Perfect time for a coffee. The corners of his lips twitch, biting back a childish grin and lifts himself up from the office chair. He knows he mentioned wearing shorts in the text message but, he decided on the other way around. Tracksuit pants and no shirt. He works hard at the gym daily and so surely, his beautiful toned body would entice you or at least distract you. The elastic band of the tracksuit pants hang low on his hips, revealing the sinister ‘v’ that leads down to somewhere that will hopefully make you look. He’s downright awful for this behaviour. Terribly unprofessional but all he can think of is his cock.

He quietly steps out of the office room, thankful to actually step away from the screen and walks through the hallway and then the large open space that connects the lounge area with the dining and kitchen. Satoru stuffs his hands into the pockets of his grey tracksuit pants before approaching the kitchen and, holy fuck. His eyes instantly focus on the gorgeous sight of you bending over in front of him, wiping your cloth across the cabinet doors. The pair of shorts aren’t like basketball ones at all. Silly of him to think baggy clothing just because your aura is so innocent. It distracted him from the idea of tighter clothing. Just like your booty shorts now, riding up between your perky ass cheeks and squirming to try and feel more comfortable. He’s going to hell for imagining himself yanking the fabric up further until you do that cute little gasp of surprise and look so embarrassed. Satoru just knows, deep in his core, that embarrassment would look good on you.

Still, he needs to behave. Just a little. You’re a sweet person and he needs to keep his sadistic ways away from you. In his defence (he’s often trying to defend himself against his own thoughts), he has ‘loving’ fantasies towards you. He just wants you to himself. Satoru shakes out of it before casually walking over until he’s standing directly next to you, flicking the switch on the kettle. “Morning, Y/N. You don’t need to work so hard, y’know? Give the dust monsters a fighting chance.” He jokes, reaching for his favourite mug; a gift from you. It’s crystal blue and reminds him of how flustered you were when explaining it made you think of his eyes.

You gasp sharply out of surprise at a sudden presence, trying to grab onto the edge of the bench for support but failing to do so and fall directly onto your butt, eyes wide as you look up at the tall male beside you. He’s home!? Heat rises in your cheeks and you scramble to stand up, fingers twisting the cloth. “S-Sir! I didn’t- I didn’t know you were home. I’m so- Sorry. I should have greeted you…” You trail off quietly, shy gaze lingering on his toned upper body. He’s shirtless. Oh god, he’s shirtless. It’s not shorts that he decided to wear for the heat. It’s less clothing.

The corners of his lips curl up to form an amused smirk, eating up every bit of your reaction. It’s just what he wanted. Luck really is on his side every second of the day. He especially enjoys the lingering gaze of yours on his body. Being shirtless was the right call. He feigns innocence as he spoons the coffee ground into his mug, smiling gently in your direction. “Don’t apologise. It’s on me for being a hermit in my office. It’s too hot to go to work. I’d say it was a good call on those shorts.” Satoru says, voice low and smooth. His eyes shift down to look at your shorts once more. The front view is even better. You laugh shyly, thighs pressing together in a pathetic attempt to try and hide. It does nothing but fuel his secret desires further. You turn away to start wiping another flat surface, hand trembling. You need to stay professional and stop looking at his eight-pack. It was a nice distraction from your thoughts of bills at least. Satoru’s presence alone is always enough to do that.

The white-haired male forces his eyes towards your face this time, blindly pouring boiling water into his mug before slowly setting the kettle down. You’ve been crying. He can tell by how puffy it is around your eyes and how your free hand tries to rub any evidence away. Oh no… No, no, no. He doesn’t like you upset. Satoru stays quiet, lips pressing firmly together as he stirs the coffee. Who does he need to hurt, he wonders. Is it a boy? God, if it is… His knuckles are going to be all bloody and bruised. Fuck. He’s jumping to conclusions again. He clears his throat, body turning to face yours. “Y/N, are you okay? If you’re feeling unwell, you can take time off... You know that, right? You’ll still be paid.” Satoru expresses with warmth to his tone, taking a sip of the bitter coffee.

Your head whips right around, eyes wide and hands coming up to shake frantically. “No! No, I need to work. Please. I’m honestly okay. I love working for you. You’re always so kind and thoughtful. Please, don’t think anything. Let me keep working. I’m okay, see?” You express earnestly, lips curling to form a wide grin. It prompts a soft smile to grace his features, stepping closer until there’s only a tiny gap between you. You could practically feel the warmth radiating off of his bare skin. His free hand tenderly cups your chin, thumb rubbing over the soft skin. Oh. He’s touching you for the first time. Why does it feel so good? You shyly shift your gaze upwards, looking up at him from beneath your long lashes.

Satoru curses internally when he feels his cock twitch from witnessing such a sweet look from you. He knows that he shouldn’t touch you. It’s breaking boundaries but, he really couldn’t resist. Not when you’re clearly haunted with thoughts and pretending to be okay. He cares for you. In so many ways. “Alright, keep working. Just know that if you ever need something, your master is here for you. I’ll take care of you.” He says rather boldly before pulling his hand away. “I’m going back to work. My door is open.” Satoru reminds, leaving you speechless as he returns to his office, sipping on his coffee.

Master…

Satoru really just called himself that. A hand presses against your chest, feeling your heart race. That’s the first time you’ve ever heard such a title in person and yet, it sounds so much prettier than ‘boss’. He even said he’d take care of you. You twist the cloth in your grip, trying to force down the giddiness you start to feel. You’re so thankful to have someone so kind in charge of you. Still, he’s not paying you to stand around! You need to repay him for his kindness. With a swirl of Satoru’s words and thoughts of your overdue bills in mind, you push yourself to work.

The tall male slumps against the inner wall of his office, crystal blue eyes staring blankly ahead and a sigh escaping from his lips. That was a dangerous game to play and yet, Satoru couldn’t resist the chance of putting ideas into your head. You may be so innocent but, he’s determined that his words would have done something to you. However, he wonders what does trouble you. Even he would put a pause on his selfish ways to help you if life calls for it. He walks over to his chair, setting his mug down before slumping into his chair, long legs spreading out. He stares at the mug, mind already starting to be pumped full of images in tight little shorts and his large hand mindlessly palming himself. You look so cute today and he just wants you so badly… What he really needs to do is pay attention—

Satoru snaps out of his thoughts once more, grumbling before resuming work, hoping that you’ll visit him throughout the day.

--------------

You’re stupid for thinking that you could go through the day without your stress levels rising. It’s the middle of the day now, most rooms clean and what you should be doing is making lunch for the older male. The one who is so sweet to you and yet, you’re standing in the middle of the lounge room, tears spilling down your cheeks and hands trembling as they frantically try to wipe them away. You’re supposed to be strong and resilient; think you could get through anything the world throws at you. Yet, you’re going to be homeless by the end of the week and living in your tiny car. You barely have money in your bank account to cover even a phone bill let alone rent.

You sniffle quietly, chest feeling tight as you glance towards the scattered letters at your feet. Life is far too cruel to you. Especially when you work for someone so wonderful. Satoru pays you well and yet, it’s not enough for your stupid landlord. Satoru… You look towards the hallway, eyes focused on the open door to his office. He did say he’ll take care of you, right? Will he help find a solution to your hot mess? Will he even comfort you? Oh, how you crave to just be surrounded by his warmth. You breathe in deeply, ignoring how shaky you sound when you exhale and slowly begin to approach Satoru’s office until you’re standing outside and looking into his world.

He’s working hard, fingers rapid on the keyboard but they stop instantly and his crystal blue eyes look up towards you, lips curling. He’s always able to sense your presence. “Y/N, finally visiting me? I was counting down the time.” He half-jokes, standing up from his chair. Satoru instantly notices your misery and how it’s written all over your face. “What’s wrong?” He asks, brows knitting together to form a frown of concern and quickly walks around the desk to approach you. Instantly, you stumble forward until you’re pressing into him, hands clenched together as if you were about to pray to him. “Please— Please, give me extra sh-shifts. I need to— I need to work more. I have bills to pay.” You hiccup between the words that frantically spill from your lips, tears gliding down your cheeks.

Satoru finds his heart racing, conflicted with himself from finding the sight of you begging to be heavenly. His large hands rest gently on your shoulders, giving a squeeze before stroking along your bare arms. “Extra shifts? What, you already work nearly every day, Y/N. That’s not healthy... Bills?” He asks, hoping for more of an explanation. Why is his heart racing with hope from the sight of your despair? He’s a sick individual. Your weight is leaning on him entirely now and Satoru wraps his arms around your trembling figure to provide you with the comfort you were craving. Your tears smearing against his bare chest.

You could barely focus on how being embraced by your superior has always been a secret dream of yours; feeling too much distress and fear of what’s to happen to you. You sob loudly and Satoru is thankful you’re not looking up at him to see the complete bliss written across his face. You’re relying on him. Not someone else. It’s him that you’re clinging onto and begging for help. He should feel guilty for being so happy in this moment. Your nails dig into his bare skin as you cling, your voice muffled against his chest. “Please... Just give me more shifts… If— If I don’t pay my bills by the end of the week, I’ll be homeless! I’ll have to... I’ll have to live in my car and I just need to pay these bills. I have nowhere to go!”

Satoru isn’t going to hell. That’s not what it feels like now. No. This must be heaven. Everything just keeps landing in front of him on a silver platter and he’s more than ready to devour. You’re desperate and in need of money for petty bills and he has more than enough to buy that shitty apartment complex ten times over if he really wanted to. He swears he’s not evil. He cares for you. It’s just that he’s selfish and perhaps a little sadistic. Well, he tries to convince himself of that. It’s going to be a pleasure to finally corrupt you to the core and have you tangled around his long fingers. The plan just instantly appears in his head like a lightbulb flicking on, listening to your sweet cries.

“Oh, sweetheart. That’s awful. How could your landlord be so mean to you?” Satoru says so softly, strong arms wrapping around your smaller frame and he hugs you tightly, not allowing you to see the brief sinister smirk that lingers on his lips and the way his eyes darken with joy for what he’s going to do next. You continue to whimper out your pleas against his broad shoulder. Your boss— No… Master sounds so much more comforting. Your Master is so kind to you. You could feel his warmth soak into your trembling body. The summer heat couldn’t even make this unpleasant.

“I... I don’t know… I already paid rent and he just hits me with more bills. Sir, I have nowhere else to go! I really need the money! Please, I’ll do anything you say if you can just give me more shifts or something? I— I’ll fix things, or try to! I’ll go deliver things? Please—“ You feel his hands gently prying you off of his body, eyes meeting. He’s looking at you with so much kindness. How could anyone ever think that this man is selfish and cruel? The white-haired male cups your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears as he gently shushes you, coaxing you to slowly calm down from crying. Tiny hiccups escape and snot threatens to drip. Still, you don’t think anything could stop your tears besides a wad of cash.

You’ll do anything for him. It’s like music to his ears; aside from your pretty crying. “I don’t know, Y/N... You already do so much, I can’t really think of anything..” He sighs, watching the way your eyes widen with horror at the thought of not being able to make enough in time. Fuck, his cock is throbbing so hard. He’s awful for doubling the fear you feel. His hands take hold of yours to give a squeeze and pull you into a tight embrace again, a hand resting against the back of your head. It feels so nice, the way his hand strokes your hair. “I can’t give you extra shifts, but I’d love to help you out. I can give you the money to help you not lose your home..”

Your heart sparks with hope! Satoru is so caring towards you. You look towards him, fingers curling into fists that rest against his toned chest. Cute, he thinks. His eyes light up, lips curling to form a smile.

“Except, you’ll have to do something for me in return. You said you’ll do anything, right? It’s nothing too difficult, love.” Satoru purrs, head mimicking your own head tilting, finger tapping against your chin. “I’ll help you with rent if you let me have you.” He proposes, trying not to laugh with endearment from your look of confusion. You pull back a little, though hands refusing to leave his warm torso.

“Have me? You already do, sir. I work for you. What do you mean..” You trail off, heart starting to speed up anxiously, though laced with excitement. You couldn’t understand why. The white-haired male chuckles, pushing hair out of your face and forcing you to look up at him with a grip on your chin.

“I mean, I’ll take care of all those troubling and nasty bills if you let me have your body, Y/N. It’s that easy. You’ll feel so good, too. There’s nothing else you could do for me because you already take such good care of me.” Satoru says, hand tenderly stroking your arm.

You look at him in wild confusion, merely because you didn’t ever expect this to be the answer. He wants your body. Satoru laughs a little, thinking you’re cute for the thousandth time. Dumb little brain needs to be taken care of, too. “Sex, Y/N. Making love.” He emphasises the last term. It’s deliberate as he thinks it’d entice your sweet heart more than the blunt term ‘fucking’. Everything he says, every touch he gives; all have a motive.

Embarrassment washes over you and your hand grips helplessly onto his muscular bicep. “I know what you meant! I just—“ You pause, mind thinking it over. Satoru, the man who has hired you, will give you money to take care of bills and in return, you sleep with him. Your mind is a hot mess, thinking so many things and especially why on earth would someone so gorgeous and with a heart of gold; want you. Your mind travels to a memory. One of when you were in university before you dropped out because of not being able to afford it. A professor got fired and a student was expelled because she had sex with him for good grades in return. Such situations are viewed down upon.

Satoru isn’t worried. He just watches you with patience (though his cock certainly wasn’t feeling that) and his long fingers lightly play with yours. He knows you’ll give in because he’ll lead you to that path. Besides, he knows you’re attracted to him to some degree. That’s been obvious since day one. He pulls away to walk towards a cabinet as you begin to speak.

“Sir, I-I’m flattered that you want to help me and… that this is the only way but, isn’t it against, you know, rules?”

Satoru laughs lightheartedly at your words, prompting you to feel hot in the face again. He reveals a safe, typing in the passcode swiftly before opening it up. Again, every action of his is intentional. Especially when the insides are exposed to you. Stacks and stacks of cash. One tiny stack alone could pay rent for a year. He tilts his head, noticing your shocked expression at the sight of the small percentage of his riches.

“I make the rules, Y/N. Do you really think I’d let you get in trouble and suggest this? I care about you.”

You feel your heart flutter gently from those words. He cares, you know he does. Always so friendly to you and goes out of his way. This really must be the only option he has left if he wants to help you. You sniffle quietly, a hand rubbing at your eyes that feel so puffy and tired. How’d he even think of choosing your body after seeing you cry is a miracle. Still, you don’t know if you should do this. Especially since you’ve never had sex before. You better speak your truth before it’s too late. “Sir, I don’t think I can…”

Satoru sighs out dramatically, hand moving to close the safe, his broad back facing you. You’re not able to see the sinister smirk he’s displaying as he speaks. “Then I don’t know what to do, Y/N. Sweetheart, you might actually end up on the stree—“

“No, I just mean I’m a virgin! I want to take up this huge favour that you’re willing to do for me but I’m a virgin, I haven’t done anything let alone be kissed. You deserve someone experienced, I can’t give you what you need.” You begin to choke up as tears begin to spill down your cheeks when you realise that nothing can be done. You feel utterly hopeless and even useless. Your boss— Master, is stretching out his hand to save you, only asking for your body in return and you can’t because why would he want someone so stupidly inexperienced?

The white-haired tilts his head upwards after hearing the wonderful news. A virgin. Untouched. Innocent. You haven’t been touched by anyone and could be all his to corrupt. He can be the one to twist and shape you into someone that revolves around him. You could even become the one to worship him like a God who saved you from your pitiful life. It feels even more special because of the simple fact that it is you. The one he’s been craving hungrily for since day one. The one he really wanted to have fall for him and rely heavily on him. That you’d only ever look his way because how could some other person, man or woman; ever conquer when it’s him who’s taking all of your firsts and having you tangled in his web. He will become your one and only to worship and cherish.

You definitely wouldn’t want someone else when he’s manipulated you into agreeing and finally having your eyes open to pleasure. Pleasure only he can give. Satoru feels that confident in himself and his shoulders nearly shake from silent laughter. He already feels like he’s won. Satoru breathes in deeply before he turns around to face you, eyes now showing concern for you. He frowns, pretending to not be giddy at the sight of your tears and walks back over to you. The safe is opened slightly to still reveal the contents.

“I accept you for who you are, Y/N. It might be off-putting to other men that you’ve never had sex or as I like to say, make love but, it isn’t to me. It just makes you even more special in my eyes.” Satoru says, hand tenderly stroking your cheek and gently wiping the tears away. Fuck, how he’d love to lick them off your cute face instead. You frown a little at first at his words, an unpleasant twist in your stomach that prompts your hands to reach out for him. For comfort. He’s right. Other men would look at you unpleasantly for being so inexperienced…

Satoru thinks you’re special, though. It coaxes butterflies to appear in your stomach, reminding you how they often seem to come alive whenever Satoru is around. You smile shyly, cheeks stained with tears and you tilt into his hand, thinking of his proposal. He’ll help you with your bills if you just give your body to him. He doesn’t care about your virginity and is still willing to. You bite down on your lip, leaning in close and a fleeting glance at the safe full of money. You care for Satoru and deeply respect him. Still… Is this right?

He notices it and bites back a chuckle. You’re clearly desperate to not lose a roof over your head. In all honesty, Satoru wants to beat your landowner up. Violently. It angers him that you’ve been put in a position and feel complete despair. He hates when others are cruel to you but, he’ll still selfishly take the chance to take you for himself. Nothing could put a stop to that. Not even a gun to his head. It’s safe to say that Satoru knows that he lacks morals. Does he care how unethical it is to coax his personal maid into sex? Fuck no. His dick definitely agrees with his plan, too. He continues to gaze down at you, stroking your cheek. You just need a little push and he knows you’ll fall over the edge and desperately reach for him. He’ll bless you with his hand reaching out to hold you before you could fall into darkness.

“Let’s make love, Y/N. I’ll pay your rent just as I promise. Besides, don’t you want to give up your virginity to someone who truly cares about you or would you rather give it to some man at the bar, just wanting to get his dick wet? I’ll make you feel good. Let me take care of you. Let me save you.” His voice is quiet and low as he bends down to whisper against your ear, warm breath fanning against it. Checkmate, he thinks as his eyes never leave his prize.

This is your virginity. You only get one shot. Body, heart & soul already yearn for the older male, yelling at you that there’s no one else you could find that would do better than Satoru. They agree with their Master’s words and now your mind is starting to agree too. No one else could do it. Satoru wants to make love with you and help you ease your troubles. No one would ever do that. Just your master. This tall, white-haired man has always been so selfless. So kind and loving towards you. You won’t have to worry anymore. It just makes sense to agree.

Shyly, your arms wrap around his neck and you have to lean up on your toes. Has he always been so tall? He towers above you, physique looking so beautifully carved like it’s a Greek statue of a God. You feel so hot despite the cool air blowing from the aircon, looking up at him. Satoru’s hands are cautious on your hips, thumbs dipped beneath the shirt to rub comforting circles against your soft skin. He really is willing to save you. “I want to, Sir. If I give myself, you’ll help me with my bills and take care of me for my first time... It makes sense. I want it all with you.” You express through a whisper, ignoring how your heart races so excitedly for sins that are about to be committed. You always had an innocent crush on your boss and now he’s doing all of this. For you.

An almost manic grin appears from hearing you finally agree, bending slightly to press a kiss to your jawline, breathing in deeply. Satoru could smell your sweet perfume mixed with your sweat. Fucking perfect. He’s finally getting what he’s always wanted. Thank fuck for the overdue bills. “Your Master will take good care of you in return, baby. Don’t worry your pretty little head about those bills anymore. Just let go and succumb to me.” Satoru purrs, coaxing you into feeling a mixture of giddiness and embarrassment as you nod with eagerness.

“Don’t think the office is the right place for this.” Satoru thinks aloud before easily hoisting you up into his hold. He guides your legs around his waist, hands cupping just beneath your perky butt and briefly, he thanks the heatwave for prompting you to wear shorts. “Sir? Where will we go?” You ask, too flustered to use logic at the given time.

“Mm, call me Master from now on. It’s cuter from your lips. Is there nothing in that small brain of yours, baby?” He teases, walking down the hallway. Your cheeks flush from the humiliation of his words, trying to hide your face. He looks up above, mouthing ‘thank you’ — To himself. All his hard work has paid off. “Where does sex usually happen, do you not know?” He mocks, cock straining against his tracksuit pants.

You whine, frantically pulling away to look at him. “I know where sex happens! I just had… a dumb moment.” You huff, helping with pushing the door open to his master bedroom as he nudges it with his foot. He coos, endeared by your brief feistiness and kisses your temple. “Of course you do, Y/N. Only a dumb baby sometimes.” Satoru chuckles and you feel your heart flutter from hearing one of your favourite sounds. It relaxes you. Only a little, which is only natural for something big that’s about to happen in your life. Satoru gently sets you down on the polished wooden floor and walks slowly over to the bed, pretending to inspect it. There’s a circular rug beneath the king-size bedroom. He may have been prompted in the shop by how you praised the fuzziness of it and that he wouldn’t want you hurting your knees when he finally gets you between his legs. Ha. He really is a winner. Never the loser kind.

He stands there before the bed. He sighs deeply and turns towards you. Satoru has to ignore how his heart aches from the cute sight of you nervously fidgeting. “You know, Y/N... I’m really helping you here. You’re always so polite to me but, I was wondering if you could show me how deeply thankful you are for me, your master. Will you?” He asks, voice laced with sweetness. You’re oblivious to the fact that he’s testing your obedience, curious if you really would do anything. Including something some would say is humiliating.

It’s not humiliating at all to you and instead, it makes perfect sense to you. He’s gone out of his way a few years ago to hire you and now he’s going even further. Quickly, you drop down to your knees and your face scrunches slightly from the impact. You’re not close enough for the fuzzy carpet. Even though you feel so flustered, you lower your upper body until your nose presses against the wood and your hands overlap just before you. You’re bowing as deeply as you can, tears of relief threatening to spill. “Th-Thank you, Master. This means the world to me. I’ll thank you over and over.” You whisper breathlessly. You could feel your shorts rising from the movement, perky ass cheeks on display as you bow towards him.

Satoru is more thankful for his phone in his pocket, slyly pulling it out to hold it up and snapping a photo of the glorious sight of you bowing before him, thanking him for how his thick cock will stretch out your virgin pussy— Well, he knows the gratitude is beyond that. He’s grinning a little, still in almost disbelief that everything is going his way. He may be confident in his abilities but, there was always that chance of everything falling apart and you leaving. His heart aches at the thought of that. He’d do anything and everything to make you stay. Even force if he had to. He clears his throat, grin lessening to a soft smile. “You’re okay with me taking a photo, right? Sweet girl, you look so cute when you’re bowing to me.” Frankly, he’d still keep the photo but it’s nice to get your consent either way.

You whine quietly at his words, peeking up at him and noticing him setting his phone aside. “Master can do anything he wants..” You mumble shyly, face feeling hot once more. Is your heart going to leap out of your chest? That’s what it feels like. Satoru walks over until his bare feet are in front of your eyes. You lift yourself up a little to look up towards his gorgeous face as he towers above you. Your saviour. “Y/N, are you happy to give me your first of firsts?” His voice is low and deep, yet so silky smooth that you find yourself nodding eagerly. Truth be told, you always dreamt of giving him your first kiss. You have been crushing on him hard and just stubbornly tried to stay professional.

“I want Master to have it! I want him to show me what it’s like, I want…” You trail off, longing gaze falling to his soft-looking lips. “To taste my Master.” You finally confess and Satoru couldn’t stop himself from smirking, pleased with your response. You’re still in disbelief at everything that is going on. Still nervous about the bills— It’s hard to take your mind off of them. Satoru will help with that. You watch as he stands up and your lips part in silent awe. From this angle, he really does appear like a God saving you. His crystal blue eyes focus on you as he begins to step away, his heart leaping when you desperately reach out for him. “Come on, baby girl. Crawl. You’ll reach the bed soon or, is it me that you’re wanting to reach?” He teases lightly, prompting you to huff and start to crawl on all fours in his direction, ignoring the annoyance of your booty shorts riding up between your ass cheeks. It’s definitely him that you want to reach.

Satoru settles on the edge of the king-size bed, eyes refusing to blink as he watches you crawl over to him like his very own personal pet. It’s a sight he wants burned into his mind to remember for eternity. He could still sense your shyness and while others may have told you to get over all of this; the shyness only fuels his desires further to corrupt you and shape you into his. He bends down once you reach him, arms beneath your underarms and hoists you up with ease onto his lap, directly onto his crotch. He shifts to hug around your waist, pulling against him and you can’t stop yourself from feeling flustered or how your heart seems to race even faster. It’s to be expected, right? Everything is new and it’s all involving the man in charge of you.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous but, trust me. You trust me, right? I would never let anyone hurt you, not even myself. I’m just here to take care of you. Save you.” Satoru whispers, leaning in as his lips hover over yours, not kissing you just yet. A shaky breath escapes, your hands gently gripping onto his broad shoulders for support. He’s saving you. Won’t let any harm come your way. No more mean bills to make you cry. “I trust you..” You respond softly and soon feel his lips pressing against yours. One of his large hands comes up to cup the back of your head to keep you in place, fingers threading through your hair to grip as he moves his tiers slowly against yours, guiding you through your first kiss. He could tell you’re new to everything; not exactly knowing what to do with your lips besides what you see in films.

Satoru couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. “Just follow your Master, baby girl. Let him guide.” He mumbles against your plump lips and you relax on his lap, arms now snaking around his neck as you follow his lead. It’s not so clumsy anymore as you kiss him. Lips moving against lips. Tongue peeking out to swipe across lower tiers. You’re a quick learner, he notices. He fucking loves that. He continues to make out with you, time easing away and the kiss being fuelled with more passion. It’s sloppy, saliva smearing and neither of you seemed to care. You feel a mixture of peace and excitement as you kiss Satoru. Each touch is a reminder to you that he cares for you. That he won’t let anything happen. Not to mention that he’s just really good at taking the lead and kissing you breathless. You wonder if you’ll be allowed to kiss him more after, easily sinking into his trap.

You sigh happily, body moving on its own as you shift to straddle him properly, fingers threading through his white hair to gently pull on as you press flush against him; your covered breasts against his bare chest, unintentionally rubbing. You’re unaware of how you’re moving, just getting lost in the kiss. Satoru on the other hand, is deeply aware. Especially when you’re causing friction against his crotch and causing him to groan into the searing kiss. For a virgin, your body definitely has been craving to be touched. By him only. His tongue drags slowly across your lower lip until your lips part to whimper and he slides his tongue in with ease, gliding it across every inch of your mouth, eager to have your sweet taste permanently on his tongue. His hands are tight against your body to keep you in place, causing you to squirm and press into him, only craving to drown in the kiss.

You feel him slowly devour you, hand caressing along the length of your back and you just simply melt, completely dazzled by everything that is Gojo Satoru. It’s only a kiss, too. Will everything feel so good? His tongue rubs against yours as your pair of lips continue to move against his until eventually, he decides to part. There’s a string of saliva connecting your lips together, causing you to feel flush. “You’re a fast learner, Y/N.” He praises, intentions to trap you and reel you in further. You often enjoyed being praised by him for your work, so it only makes sense to him. His assumption was correct, eyes lighting up at his words and a hand quickly wiping away the saliva. “You’re a good teacher, Master.” You say softly, causing his ego to swell up.

His gaze darkens, using his strength to easily manhandle your body around until your back meets the bed and he’s pinning you down, one hand gripping firmly onto your wrist and his other stroking your side every so lightly. You choke on a surprised gasp from the sudden movement, staring up at him with wide eyes, long lashes fluttering gently. Is your heart racing from nerves? Excitement? “Baby..” He trails off, leaning down to brush his lips along your jawline, whispering. “You’re going to do something for me, aren’t you?” Satoru peeks up at your face and even someone untouched can pick up on the implication. You squirm nervously now. It’s all new. What if you’re not good at it? Should you really be doing this? Would Satoru want you if he wasn’t doing you such a huge favour? What is your worth? Your mind tends to still leave questions and Satoru doesn’t like that. He wants your mind free of everything but his voice.

“Remember that I’m doing you a favour, Y/N.” He growls lowly, teeth nipping at your flesh. He’s awful for being further aroused by instilling fear into you. It’s a necessity if he wants you to break and finally realise the truth properly. That you live to serve him completely. “Don’t be so scared, my sweet maid. You want this, I know you do. We’re taking our time. It’s just… Master is aching. Only wants your touch.” His large hand smothers one of your own, slowly guiding it towards his crotch. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be crying on the streets in just seven days. So baby girl, just forget it all. Let me take care of you as you take care of me.” His words are low and soothing, listening intently to every word that he says like it’s a prayer to memorise.

That’s right. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be completely doomed. With determination pumping through your body, you move to sit up, hands pressing against his chest and he allows you to move him until he’s lying down on his back now, gazing up at you with a victorious grin displaying on his swollen lips. Fuck yes. You’re so easy to manipulate and it riles him up. He pretends that he’s calm, just adjusting the pillows beneath his head before a hand comes down to give your closest thigh a tender squeeze. It’s encouraging to you and you clasp his hands between both of yours, pressing it against your chest. You look at him like he’s everything to you. He always has been. That small crush turned into something more. Foolish of you to realise only now.

“I live to serve you, Master. I know I’m new but, I’ll do everything I can to make you feel good. Please teach me when I need it.” You express breathlessly before letting go of his hand to crawl between his parted legs. You curl up, leaning forward until your face presses against his crotch, nuzzling so lovingly and breathing in the scent of Satoru. He grits his teeth, long fingers twitching before he grips onto the blanket beneath him for now. The white-haired male didn’t expect such a filthy yet endearing gesture but it only causes him to ache, wishing for his cock to be freed already. “Good girl, you’re so good.. Show me what you know,” Satoru says through his clenched teeth, not daring to look away from the pretty sight of you between his long legs. Truth be told, you found that you’d just be happy to exist with your face nuzzling between his crotch, inhaling in his comforting scent. Yeah, sweat mixed with cologne. Some might find it off-putting but it’s Satoru! Your beloved boss.

Remembering scenes from films and your own curiosity as your motivator, you press your tongue flat against the fabric that restricts him, dragging it slowly across the mysterious thickness that his pants are hiding. It prompts a soft groan to leave Satoru, teeth latching onto his lower lip. He didn’t expect you to do something so teasing and lewd. It’s so long, you noticed. Your tongue reaches the end and that’s when you notice the leaking tip just peeking out from under the elastic band, his cock straining against it.

“Are you smiling because you get to see my cock? Dirty girl.” He snorts lightly and you bring a hand up to your mouth, noticing that you really were smiling down at his crotch. You assume it’s because you’ll get to give someone you adore some pleasure. Right? “Can’t help myself.” You tsk lightly, hooking your fingers beneath the elastic band and finally begin to hastily pull down. It seems like you’re pulling and pulling until finally, his erection springs out, slapping against his toned stomach. Your jaw drops in shock from how big it is. You’ve seen porn and obnoxiously big dicks but— Satoru’s is on another level. It’s not obnoxiously long that it seems fake but, it’s still huge. Thick, too. You can only imagine that your fingers will struggle to meet around it. There’s a pretty curve to the pulsating length, protruding veins along the sides. Your gaze is completely fixated on the beauty of it and something just clicks in your head as a droplet of pre-cum leaks from the head and down the many inches. It just clicks that, of course, Gojo Satoru would have the most beautiful cock in the world. Of course, it’d be attached to someone who deserves to be worshipped daily.

Satoru’s confidence just rapidly increases, casually resting an arm beneath his head, smirking at the cute sight of you being in a shock of silence. People in the past often said that he’s got a big dick but your face just says so much more. Mind games and all, it seems it’s just all falling into place and he’s pleased. “My sweet maid.” He calls out softly, his free hand managing to reach out to pet the top of your head as you stay kneeling between his legs. It coaxes you to lean down so it’s easier for him to pet you like some animal, making you silently wonder why you like the feeling of it. Why were you so foolish to call yourself his housekeeper for years when you were more than that? Being his maid is special. Intimate. It means you can do everything for him and he’ll keep you under his protection in return. “Go on, baby. I know you want to touch my cock and it’s cause of you that I’m so hard. Make me feel good…” He smiles to himself. “Paying your bills after all and taking care of you.”

That’s right! You can’t just keep sitting here in absolute awe when he’s waiting for pleasure in return for his help. Besides, he’s even further correct on you wanting to touch him with your virgin hands. You laugh shyly, fingers curling around the thick base and feeling it throb from your touch. The very tips of your fingers just are able to make contact. “I’m sorry, Master. It’s just— I’ve never seen… Only in media, y’know. You’re just so— Huge. So pretty.” You purr, now tenderly stroking along the length, making sure to touch every single inch.

His abdomen tenses from the touch, exhaling low through his mouth as he feels the pleasant warmth of your palm as you stroke gently. He closes his eyes for a moment. Satoru can feel your hand dragging, causing friction from the lack of lubricant. He briefly looks towards his drawer where he knows there’s a barely empty bottle of lube. He uses it a lot to the thought of you and now that he has you? Perfect. “Spit on it, baby. It will make me feel good. Take your time, do what feels natural.” The gentle order falls from his lips as he sighs. Usually, he’s an impatient man who’d just love to bend you over and rail your ass until you’re crying but this is his first time with you. He may have perhaps manipulated to get his way but he’s not going to rush such a perfect moment. Especially when your hand feels so snug and warm.

Spit on it… Right. You’ve read somewhere that dry friction is somewhat unpleasant and so you lean down, tongue hanging out just over the pretty tip and saliva begins to pool, slowly dripping out until you’re practically drooling over his cock. The pair of you actually moan together at the filthy sight, feeling the spit meeting the top of your hand and you begin to stroke until you’re coating his throbbing member with your own spit, pleased with the way it glistens beneath the light of the bedroom, making his cock entice you in further. You pick up the pace of your strokes, wrist twisting each time you slide your hand up and down. Your thumb rubs against the sensitive tip and he grunts, hips stuttering in response as the pleasure leaves him tingling.

You’re a natural when it comes to giving Satoru a handjob. His eyes nearly falling shut; half-lidded gaze focusing on the sight of your hand quickly stroking along his shaft, smearing the saliva that you continue to let drool out onto his tip. Satoru is breathing deeply, nails scraping against his own scalp as a pitiful attempt to contain himself through the gentle waves of pleasure. You’re still on your knees between his long limbs, though leaning down and ass pushing up into the air, appearing so inviting. You keep your face close to his throbbing cock, wanting to memorise the pretty sight and how it feels heavy against your palm. Wrist continues to twist with each stroke before you hear him groaning out your name. You feel pleased to be able to give your Master the pleasure he deserves.

You whimper in question when his hand grips firmly onto your hair, glancing up at him. Suddenly he’s pressing your face against the underside of his cock and you could feel your own spit against your face. “Use your mouth.” He pants out heavily, eyes swirling with victorious lust. You’re quick to oblige, mimicking with what you did before by dragging your tongue slowly along the underside, tracing along a vein until plush lips press against the pretty pink tip. You already find yourself loving the taste of him, craving more. You kiss sloppy innocent kisses to the leaking tip before you wrap your lips around it, suckling on it gently as you look up towards your Master.

Satoru rolls his eyes at the wet warmth of your mouth and your daring tongue sliding across the sensitive head. He waited far too long, mind momentarily wishing you were desperate for him to save you earlier. He’s a sick individual and gives no fuck. Being selfish gets him what he wants and that is every part of you. You look up towards his face with absolute adoration for the older male, tongue lapping at the tip and swirling around like it’s your own personal candy to enjoy. You’re unable to stop the soft moan from escaping and he inhales sharply when he feels the vibration along his thick cock. One hand continues to stroke and lovingly squeeze around the base of his length, mouth parting wider as you take more of him into your wet cavern.

Your jaw is tense, locked in place as you slide your mouth up and down the very first few inches, feeling it rub against your inner cheeks. You find that you already have to slurp up the large amounts of saliva that seeps out. Satoru feels himself twitch in your mouth, one arm briefly draping over his eyes as he focuses on nothing but the sweet wet mouth that surrounds his raging erection. His face scrunches up as the pleasure surges through him, groaning softly. He brings his hand down to firmly grip your hair from the back of your head, eagerly pushing down. Satoru knows that it’s so wrong to urge a virgin to go beyond their comfort levels but, your mouth is too heavenly to ignore & to be frank, he knows he’ll get away with it because of the ‘special’ situation. Hell, he knows that urged him to do it.

Your eyes widen as you feel the force against your head, whines muffled by the aching tug on strands of hair. For him— Satoru, the one who is giving you everything; you’ll do it for him. Happily. Inexperience and nerves be damned. You try to widen your mouth, gagging audibly when the tip of his thickness brushes against the back of your throat, choking as you pull away to look at him with wide eyes, spit mixed with pre-cum smeared and dripping from your chin. “M-Master, it hurts my jaw. I don’t know what to do, I really want your cock. I want to give you pleasure.” You plead breathlessly, eyes stinging with tears. You can’t screw this up.

It does the opposite of screwing up. Satoru is just so happy to not only have you, but a virgin to shape and play with. You’re going to accept anything he throws your way like a dog with a bone. “Baby girl, so inexperienced. Where would you be without me? You’re so lucky that I love to guide you through things.” He murmurs, fingers gently caressing along your jawline, leaning up on the elbow of his other arm. “Other men would find you so embarrassing but I just adore your innocent eagerness to please me. Just relax your jaw, Y/N. Relax as you take me in, okay? You’ll find yourself better at it than forcing yourself. I know my cock is so big for your cute mouth but you’ll take it all, won’t you? For me?” He explains, watching your eyes light up from the ‘teaching’ and helpful information.

“Of course, Master! I won’t dare miss any of you! Every inch of your beautiful cock deserves to feel pleasure. I can do it.” You insist, tears of worry glued to your long lashes. He has to tilt his head away to mask his look of disbelief. A true jackpot. Satoru simply nods to give you permission to continue. Your body muscles soften when you realise he isn’t giving up on you. The deal or whatever is still in motion and you’re just so thankful. He’s right that others would have rejected you. His kindness deserves to be shown your gratitude. Your plush lips wrap once more around the tip, bobbing your mouth up and down the first few inches slowly, eyes focused on him and the way his chest seems to stutter with his heavy breaths.

You squeeze your hand around the base before you start to slide your hot mouth down further, listening to his words from before and just relaxing into it. You close your eyes, nose scrunching slightly but you fixate on the taste of his cock against your tongue that caresses the underside of his twitching length, head tilting as you take more in. You find that you’re lacking oxygen with your mouth stuffed full and start to breathe through your nose. Saliva continues to dribble out, keeping that beautiful sheen over his cock whenever the spit meets the bedroom light. Even with advice in mind, you can’t help but gag on his throbbing cock whenever it presses against the back of your throat.

It’s become one of his favourite sounds. The sound of you choking on his fat cock, only eager to take every part of him. “Mm, fuck… Good girl, doing so good.. Fondle with my balls as you suck like the filthy girl you are for me, baby.” The dirty words just fall from his lips so easily when he feels the velvety feeling of your inner cheeks rubbing along his cock, brows furrowed as his hand returns to your head once more to push. Usually, such words may have shocked you but now with lips stretched so wide around his girth; you discover something new. You love his dirty talk. You worship every single word he says like nothing else holds value. It’s like he is your Go—

You’re yanked out of your loving thoughts when he snaps his hips up, now being the one to force his thick cock down your throat. He’s allowed to do whatever he wants, after all. Your hand cups his balls to tenderly fondle as you breathe heavily through your nose. A few droplets of tears glide down your warm cheeks, feeling the ache at the back of your throat as he keeps his dick stuffed down the warm hole, groaning out happily from the pleasant feeling. He can feel the way your throat muscles constrict and tighten around his invading cock, only driving him further as he begins to fuck your mouth, hand firmly on your head to keep you in place. He’s sliding his cock against your wet tongue, head tilting forward to see the pretty sight of you in tears and struggling to breathe properly.

“Such a cute virgin.” He pants out, causing your heart to flutter, happy that he’s able to find your inexperience and struggle cute. It didn’t matter to you at all, the painful ache and continuous gags rising up loudly whenever his erection slid out to let that moment of air before quickly taking it away from you. Even with your throat acting as some guard to prevent him from going further couldn’t stop him. No, Satoru would just push on your head as his hips snap up rapidly, grinning lightly from the wet squelching. Your nose keeps pressing against his stomach, muffling your needy sounds. The white-haired man coos mockingly when your hands flail, not knowing what to do with them as he fucks your open mouth roughly.

“Come on, baby. Put them to use. You wouldn’t want to make a mistake and lose your chance, would you? Even worse, you wouldn’t want to lose me.” He hisses out lowly, head tilting back as he moans, thankful for his own stubbornness to hold out just that bit longer. He wouldn’t leave you, but he sure loves to see you in momentary fear. The words send you into an internal panic. No! No, no, no! You don’t want to lose your Master! One hand quickly grips the side of his toned thigh to caress, the other returning to squeeze lightly and fondle his balls lovingly, eager to make the male happy.

Satoru’s eyes roll, widening for a moment before closing tightly. He can feel himself approaching his high quickly as his hips continue to snap at a fast pace to fuck your mouth nice and deep. If your mouth feels so good, Satoru couldn’t wait too long to stuff your virgin pussy with his monstrous-sized cock. It’d be even better. You feel lightheaded from not being able to get the proper amount of oxygen and it feels rather nice. Fuzzy. Nicer if you think about how much you trust Satoru and that he’s clearly loving your mouth. You’re happy to be so useful with just one of your holes. Still, it doesn’t stop you from choking, swallowing around his length as it slides beyond your cheeks and down until you can feel it when your hand quickly touches your throat. You could feel when his cock makes your throat bulge and hurt, tears and spit causing you to look like a hot mess already. It’s a miracle you chose today to not wear make-up, you would have had mascara running down your cheeks.

“Fuck— Fuck, Y/N. Take it. Be a good girl—“ Satoru gasps sharply, both large hands gripping onto the sides of your head to prison you in that only spot. A wave of ecstasy washes over his long body, causing his muscles to tense up and shake slightly as his cock finally pumps out ropes of sticky cum that paint your throat white. You breathe heavily out through your nose, eyes wide and frantic from something new filling your mouth and you have no other option but to swallow.

Why does it taste so good? You taste the saltiness of his cum and it lingers even as you happily swallow each drop that he’s blessed you with, feeling so special. You are, after all. He chose you and in return, you’ll be happy to receive anything from him if it means giving joy back. His nails scrape along your scalp, moaning deeply as he simply enjoys riding the wave that is his orgasm. Half-lidded gaze once more and he looks at you, cheeks puffed out from being pumped full of his cum, watching intently as you refuse to let any dribble out. Fucking hell, what did he do in his past life to be able to witness this?

He guides your head up and slowly off of his cock that slaps against his stomach once free. It already starts to twitch just as he watches you sputter. You’re dry-heaving deeply, hands gripping onto his thighs for support and feel relief for a moment that you can breathe through your mouth. You cough, strings of saliva still connecting to his sloppy cock and you wipe them away, trying to wipe your face clean. Your saliva mixed with his dry-cum already feels dry and crusty on your face. You must look awful, causing you to raise your hands to pitifully hide. Instantly, Satoru’s hands grip your wrists as he shifts to sit up with you, staring heavy and firm.

“No hiding.” He warns before his gaze softens, leaning in. “I think you look even prettier when you’re all messy like this. All thanks to me.” Satoru reminds gently, massaging small circles against your wrists. You feel your heart leap from his words, looking at the white-haired male so fondly. Master. Saviour. “Th— ank you.” You manage to rasp out despite your abused throat aching. Satoru coos endeared entirely because of you and presses multiple kisses to your swollen lips. He could taste himself. “How’d I taste, my sweet maid? You better expect more.” He chuckles gently, nose pressing against your temple as he inhales deeply. He could smell your sweat laced with your favourite perfume and silently thanks the heat.

You don’t realise it but your eyes light up at his words, giddy from realising this isn’t the end. Your nerves may never be conquered until it’s over and you have given your true first to him but, you couldn’t deny that you actually enjoyed having him inside your mouth. Especially when he started taking control and you just had to take it. Mess and all. Maybe it’s scary for a virgin to be thinking this but… It just feels like this is what you’re destined to do. To truly serve Gojo Satoru. He’s offering to pay your bills, too. A bonus, really.

“Your cum… It’s my favourite taste now.” You confess sheepishly and his ego just explodes from hearing that, toned arms wrapping around you to pull him down into his crushing embrace. You giggle happily, pleased by his reaction and press loving kisses to his sharp collarbone, hand between bodies coming down to caress along his length lightly. “I’m not afraid to continue, Master.” You express, worried that he might think otherwise. You can’t lose this. “I want you.” You whine, pressing into his bigger form.

Satoru is smirking over your shoulder, hand rubbing along your back. You’re still clothed and finally, he’ll be able to really see everything and burn it into his mind. Fantasies no more when he has the real deal being shaped into craving him and wanting to do everything he says. “You want me. I always knew you did. It was written all over your pretty face. Especially when you’re so scared and desperate, hm? You just want me to take over, so you can be my cute little maid who doesn’t need to think.” Satoru whispers, lips brushing against your ear. His long fingers now coming down to run along the edge of your booty shorts, smiling when you squirm. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks from the white-haired male reading you a bit too well, leaning into his touch.

“Soon, we’ll make love.” He says, eyes focused on your reaction. There it is. He can say the way your eyes cloud over and lips curl into a smile. You’re far too easy to trick and Satoru thinks to himself that if any other person tries, he’ll destroy them. You are his to mess with. “First, though... Let me make you feel good. Get you all relaxed and comfortable.” Satoru purrs against your ear before he lifts himself up to stare down at you, feeling eager like a puppy for a treat. You are his treat. All his for the taking. You give him a questioning look, fully expecting him to just yank your clothes off and shove his length into your virgin hole. That’s what you’ve seen in the media. That’s what your friends tell you when they gossip about their sex lives. Sex is something rushed and mostly for men to feel good.

How wrong you were. You close your eyes tightly, waiting for what you expect to happen, but nothing does. Satoru is gazing down at you and he’s no mind reader but he basically could read you from how you’re behaving. Ha. Every moment just seems to reward him with something. You, the one that he has been craving deeply for a long time, happen to be a virgin and not only that, you’ve clearly been watching the wrong set of media and have the pitiful thoughts that it’s just for a man to fuck a hole. He gets to be the one to teach you that it is so much more than that. You won’t view him the same as other men, but someone above them. He’ll get to trick that pretty little mind of yours that he is one of a kind and to never let go of him. You’ll truly believe that no one else can take care of you and you’ll be happily devoted to him. Call him confident or cocky, Satoru doesn’t care when it’s true. Besides, he really thinks no other man can compare to him.

His bigger form leans down over you, warm breath fanning against your neck before he begins to leave a trail of wet kisses, tongue teasingly dragging along your soft skin and teeth nipping at it as well. You squirm a little, raising to rest a hand against his broad back, feeling the way his muscles move beneath your palm and you sigh out softly, already feeling all tingly. “Don’t you want to fuck me, Master? Why aren’t you?” You question quietly, words trailing off as a needy moan escapes you. He’s sucking harshly on the flesh, making a dark bruise starting to form as he pulls away, looking down at you. He laughs, one hand cupping your chin and long fingers squishing your cheeks together until your already swollen lips pucker up.

“Make love.” He corrects deliberately, though you’re of course utterly oblivious and just look up at him in complete awe. “You don’t need to worry, Y/N. I’ll be making love to you and you’ll be free of all worries, I’m doing all of this for you. Remember?” He waits for you to nod before pecking your lips, teeth latching onto your lower lip to suck on gently before pulling away, saliva connecting your lips with his once more. “I want to take my time. You’re new to all of this and you clearly don’t know what sex is really about, my pretty girl. I’m here to show you.” He says before returning to kiss your neck sweetly, one hand slowly unbuttoning the last few buttons of your work shirt.

You couldn’t stop a smile from appearing on your visage, arms wrapping around his strong body to cling onto as you feel his lips on your neck, whimpering occasionally from feeling the light ache of him sucking harshly until for hickeys to form. You really struck gold and to think that your world was going to crash and end in just a few days. Not only is he saving you by paying bills; but he’s going to make your first time one to remember. Even if it’s been a bit rough with the way he relentlessly fucked your mouth until you were gagging and choking for air, you discover that you… actually enjoyed it. You don’t want to trouble yourself with understanding why and just focus on the moment with Satoru as he gives it all to you.

The white-haired male sits up, long fingers pushing strands out of his crystal blue eyes before he grabs the hem of your shirt and begins to tug up. He didn’t have to ask as you obediently lift your arms up and that just makes his cock throb. Perfect. Satoru smirks behind the shirt that he lifts over your head and you can’t see his face, whining when it gets stuck on your head. “Take it off, I want to see you..” You plead quietly and Satoru laughs, pleased by your words. He’s a sucker for someone needy and dependent on him.

“Who chose this stupid uniform for you to wear—“ He huffs, yanking it off swiftly and you laugh with amusement, shaking your head. “Um, you did?” You tease the male lightly and he rolls his eyes. “Right, dumb choice that was. Personally, I like maid uniforms. They’re a lot cuter.” Satoru tosses the shirt aside, eyes lingering on the gorgeous sight of your breasts being pushed up by the bra. You feel your cheeks becoming hot and look off to the side. Maid dresses? That would be so inappropriate and yet, you don’t care. He’s right. They are cuter. “I think maid dresses are nice... I could wear them instead..” You suggest quietly, too flustered to look at him.

Bingo. Satoru can see the signs of you falling for him when you agree so easily and it makes him grin down towards you, eyes holding warmth. “Conversation for another time, Y/N. Right now, I want to focus on you.” He sighs as he cups your breasts over the bra to give a small squeeze, noticing the way your hardened buds press against the fabric. You whimper behind your hand as his expert hands continue to fondle, giving a harsh squeeze every so often and it feels so good— You even feel your pussy leak further with aroused juices, soaking through your panties and shorts. He cups the back of your neck with one hand to guide you up towards his chest other hand unhooking your undergarment before rather hastily moving you out of it, feeling the straps slide down your arms until you’re on your back again, breasts exposed to the tall male. “Fucking hell..” He mutters under his breath, hands cupping the sides of your boobs, loving the sight of how the squishiness fills the gaps of his fingers and presses your breasts together until he leans down to bury his face, happily nuzzling against the soft mounds.

You bring a hand up to stroke along the back of his head, a mixture of giddiness and embarrassment washing over you from the fact that the man in charge of you is clearly favouring your boobs right now. “Ah, are you a boob man? You must be.” You joke lightly, giggling behind your hand. Satoru snorts, peeking up at you. “I’m a Y/N man.” He answers, not caring if it makes sense. His hands continue to massage, thumb brushing against your sensitive buds and you whine, pulling on his hair until he groans. Your heart easily flutters at his words, keeping your head tilted up to gaze up at the ceiling, feeling a sweet daze coming over you as he gives your chest special attention.

Satoru’s tongue drags flat over your left nipple, swirling it around and flicking the tip against it, all the while his hand continues to pinch and twist the right, coaxing out mewls and moans right from your mouth and it sends excitement straight to his dick that is already starting to harden despite releasing cum so recently. Just the reminder of you swallowing his cum causes him to rut slowly against the king-size mattress. It’s cute, seeing you so reactive from this alone. His piercing gaze never leaves your scrunched-up face, lips puckered around the nipple to suckle on gently, long fingers squeezing the flesh harshly.

You whimper out for him; your Master. You could feel the cool air of the aircon drying the saliva that coats your breasts from him licking around the soft mounds, biting down on the flesh to scatter hickeys across. You’re like his own personal canvas for him to enjoy marking up and truth be told, Satoru is holding back in that department. He may get aroused by your fear but anything too terrifying could have you running. He needs to pull you in slowly until your devotion to him is unable to be tainted. Besides, Satoru also selfishly doesn’t want to expose you to everything that fuels him so you’ll keep coming back with eagerness for this new world.

It’s hard to stay quiet, feeling his tongue dance across each breast and sloppy kisses pressed against them. You quiver with pleasure floating through you whenever he makes contact with your nipples, trying so hard to not cover your face with your hands. Satoru lifts himself up, exhaling out loud and dramatic. “Your tits are the best I’ve played with.” He chuckles, glancing up to see your reaction. He notices your cute pout, prompting him to grin down at you, hand covering your left breast giving a squeeze.

Jealousy bubbles up inside of you and you try to frantically shake it away, thinking to yourself how silly you’re being. It doesn’t matter if you’ve had a big crush on Satoru since the dawn of time. He’d clearly see other women, maybe even men. He’s ridiculously hot and besides, he’s doing you a favour… Even if some little beast inside of you growls to possessively have him; you swat it away, desperate to keep the jealousy hidden. “Hmph, well.. Maybe it just means you need to play with them whenever you want to, Master. I am your maid, after all.” You say with a sweet smile gracing your lips and long lashes fluttering, drawing him in so easily. Satoru’s gaze is hot with passion, swirled with a sense of possessiveness. Truthfully speaking, Satoru hasn’t slept with anyone since the day he met you. He just cut them all off, imagining his hand as your tight cunt instead as he jacks himself off on a daily basis. Usually after bidding you farewell. Obsession at its finest and he knows.

He hums softly, suddenly giving your tit a swift slap to watch it jiggle and you breathe in sharply from the sting of pain that spreads across your breast. You didn’t expect it, though your thighs are now starting to feel sticky from how much your aroused slick just soaked your clothing. Confusion settles over you when you realise you enjoyed it and being the mind reader that Satoru is; slaps the other one, enjoying the numb feeling that spreads across his palm. You let out a whimpering gasp as the burning sensation spreads across, looking up at him in admiration. Your brows furrowed and lips parted, fingers gripping onto sheets. How does he know your body so well? How does he know you so well? You start to wonder… Were you destined to serve him and be blessed with a higher being knowing you to your core? To be able to let go and be taken care of in every way, including your body? You never thought pain could be so sweet and maybe it’s because it’s from Satoru.

The corners of his lips twitch as he watches you intently, endeared by the sight of you potentially coming to terms that you like pain by his hands. A masochist to his sadist self. He could never let go. Still, he keeps it minimal. Giving you only a taste of the world that could open up with him. One hand grips your hip, the other giving a few more fleeting slaps across your breasts, cock swollen just from watching them jiggle and you squirm beneath his grip, biting down on your lip as if that could prevent filthy sounds from escaping. The repeated harsh stings now become numb as he tenderly massages to ease the impact of his palm, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple, whispering. “How’d I know that my innocent maid would be a slut for pain? Might be something I have to warm you up into taking more. You do look cute when you squirm from a mere slap.” The humiliation from his words settles over you, shyly tilting your head away to avoid eye contact.

It’s even more embarrassing because you didn’t know you could be physically more aroused and yet, you feel more of your juices seep out. Your body is clearly eager to take something more. Something a lot bigger. Satoru tsks lightly, a finger pressing against your chin to guide you back into looking at him. It’s only a warning. You watch as his large hands spread across the top of your thighs, nails digging into the warm flesh and pushing your legs open until your covered pussy is on display. “I sure hope it’s me that you’re so drenched for and not for having your bills paid. You wouldn’t be like that, would you? Is it the money that arouses you?” He feigns the insecurity with a sigh and you practically leap at the chance to reassure a man who has nothing but a huge ego and confidence.

“N-No! I mean— I’m thankful, Master. You know I am, but this is so much more! You’re taking care of me and showing me new things... I don’t trust anyone but you. Besides, it’s you that’s—… making me horny, not money.” You mumble out quickly, words slurring together. It’s hard to confess to your superior that you’ve been crushing on him since day one. All thanks to his good looks, kindness and irresistible charm. The fleeting moment of panic causes him to coo softly, pressing tender kisses down along your soft stomach as he bends over you, long fingers hooking beneath the fabric of your shorts and panties. “Of course, sweet girl. You wouldn’t be like that to me. So very horny and all for me. Drenched and I’ve barely touched you.” He teases as he uses his free hand to grip the side of your leg, guiding upwards and your other leg follows. His caress is a form of silence praise before he hastily tugs the clothing along the length of your legs until he’s finally able to toss them aside.

He was a lover of those shorts, really. Thankful to the heat waves for prompting you to ask for permission. Ugh, it was mere hours ago, but he clearly remembers his body being crushed by arousal just from picturing it in his mind. Now he’s eager for the soaked-through summer piece to be gone. Hands come up to cover your face quickly, overcome with a mixture of emotions. No one has ever seen you completely naked. Nor in such a vulnerable position. Satoru’s gaze darkens, though fond, as he witnesses you try to pitifully hide. His hands grip on the inner sides of your legs and gently forces them apart until he can finally see every part of you.

A shaky exhale escapes his parted lips, eyes rather manic and eager as he continues to look. He’s been waiting for so long. Too long, in his opinion. He wishes there was an earlier chance. Your legs drop back down onto the mattress on either side of his bigger physique. Your pussy is on complete display for Satoru. Even when he’s sitting up, he can see your excited juices coating the folds, droplets slowly dropping onto the sheets and the slick smeared across your inner thighs. Ego is through the roof, knowing that this is all because of him. Kissing. Fucking your mouth. Giving your breasts attention. Not much to take you dripping for him. Long fingers push white strands of hair out of his eyes, grinning to himself.

Satoru leans forward to take hold of your wrists, pulling your hands away. “No more hiding, I want you to watch what I do for you. I want you to see how good I’ll make you feel and no one else can do what I can, understood?” He asks, prompting you to frantically nod your head. “I understand.. Master? It’s— It’s going to hurt, right? What if I bleed? I’m a little bit scared, of just— you know..” You stumble over your words, looking off to the side. Satoru couldn’t help but soften. It’s hard not to, even when he’s usually gleeful from witnessing you be nervous. He may be sadistic and a huge manipulator but, he still cares so deeply for you. Feelings just don’t get tossed aside just because he’s getting his dick wet.

“Firstly, baby girl. I’m not doing that just yet.” He laughs lightly, lowering himself down until he’s pressing you into the mattress, forearms on either side of your head to hold himself up. One hand strokes along the top of your head lovingly, smiling down at you. “I promised to take good care of you, didn’t I? So that doesn’t mean selfishly shoving my dick inside of you. Though, the idea is hot.” He pauses, letting you giggle softly in disbelief at his crude words. “It means preparing you and coaxing you into a state of complete bliss. Besides, I’m a lover of eating out.” He purrs lowly, kissing along your jaw lightly, nipping at the flesh. “Also, not every girl bleeds so you might not. You’ve really been so poorly educated and believing misconceptions, but I’m here for you now.”

It’s somewhat embarrassing that you believed things so easily. Truthfully speaking, he’s sadly right. You’ve never been the type to just deeply dive into the world of Sex. You always thought of it as something you’d wait for the right time to properly experience it. You just knew what you’ve heard from gossip and media. Naivety at its finest. Still, you have Satoru now. Teaching you everything right and how sex isn’t just revolving around a male’s pleasure. Satoru is a true man and it feels so right to give him everything, despite the circumstances.

Wait— Eating out? You feel yourself feel hot all over from realising what else he expressed. Is he really going to do that? Fuckboys in your past who have tried to win you over; often said that shit is gross. Yet, Satoru loves to do it? You laugh out shyly, hand caressing along his toned back. “You’re so bold.” You mumble, eyes becoming half-lidded as you focus on the pleasant feeling of the tall male trailing kisses down the length of your body. He takes his sweet time with it. Each kiss is tender and loving. It feels as if he’s trying to reassure you that everything will be okay. Satoru easily shifts his body down with each kiss until he’s laying on his toned stomach, face hovering over the heavenly sight of your dripping cunt.

You feel the warmth of his breath fan across your pussy and it’s like your body acts on its own; pussy clenching around nothing. Is he really about to? Your hand quickly comes down to grip his hair, causing him to grunt in question, looking up at you. Flustered, you squeeze your legs against the sides of his head as if that will stop him. “You’re not really? I might taste bad!” You whisper loudly and frantic, trying to pull him away by the hair. It only fuels his eagerness. Satoru doesn’t even speak, arms just snaking around your quivering thighs to forcefully hold them apart before he leans in and finally, drags the flat of his tongue between your slick folds.

Pleasure jolts through you like electricity from the first touch of your pussy by another, causing you to gasp sharply, fingers through his hair trembling. The corners of his lips curl up, smiling against your pussy before he continues to slowly drag his tongue between your folds, moaning at the sweet taste that fills his mouth. “So fucking sweet..” He mumbles, words muffled as his lips press against your cunt, slurping loudly and devouring you for the first time. His nails dig into your thighs, tongue swirling around your sensitive clit and you couldn’t stop the needy whimpers from escaping.

Everything felt so new. So good. Your hips buck upwards every time there’s pleasure just surging through you, directly from your core. He firmly holds you down against his mattress, refusing to pull away. He doesn’t dare to stop now, after finally capturing what he’s been chasing for years. Satoru kisses your clit before sucking gently, tongue flicking against the nub and you cry out loudly for him. Completely blissed out already, hands desperately gripping his white hair as a way to ground yourself as your head tilts back, chest arching upwards.

Satoru feels as if he’s in heaven with you. Just from the sweet taste that overwhelms his mouth from how much you’re leaking, to your adorable needy sounds. The painful tug on his hair only drives him further, pressing his mouth firmly against your cunt as he makes out with it, lips moving hungrily as his tongue continues to tease the clit or drag along your folds. It’s as if he’s scared that your excited slick will go to waste. He couldn’t let that happen. Selfishly, every drop is for him and him alone. He unwraps one of his arms from around your thigh to bring towards your womanhood. Two long fingers part your folds and he curses from seeing the strings of your excitement, tongue dragging between to break them.

You whimper, toes curling as a way to try and not be overwhelmed by the pleasure. Impossible not to be. You could hear the loud sounds of him slurping up your mess as he eats you out with so much desperation, gasping loudly when his thumb pressed against your clit to rub gently in a circular motion. “Fuck, I’m so obsessed with your pretty pussy. Taste so sweet, baby. Want to devour you always.” Satoru groans breathlessly, feeling intoxicated from your taste alone, watching with great fascination as your slick coats his fingers. It only leaves him wondering what it’d be like to be inside of you, buried in deep to the hilt.

“Master, ah—! Why does it feel so goo’…” You slur out happily, body so much more relaxed compared to just moments ago. Your eyes roll as he continues to rub his thumb against your clit, pressing sloppy kisses down along your folds until his tongue meets your entrance. He teasingly continues to drag his tongue around it and you couldn’t stop from doing tiny kicks of frustration against the mattress, wanting more. He laughs mockingly at your eagerness. “Look at you now, all you want is me, isn’t that right? Can’t live without my touch.” His words are muffled, squirming from the feeling of his lips moving against your cunt as he talks. You pant softly, tongue lolled out and eyes unable to focus on anything.

Satoru is right. He’s always right. Of course, it’d only take one touch; one caress and even a simple kiss to drag you into his depths, tangled and completely devoted to him. His talented mouth washing away all your worries you have of losing your virginity. Bills be damned. He takes care of you so well. The only one who takes care of you. Satoru is the one you wish to worship like your own God. He presses sloppy kisses to your clit, one finger caressing your hole before slowly pushing in— And fuck, he could feel your velvety walls stretch around the new invasion but wrapping so snug and tight. He wishes it was his cock already.

Your brows furrow, lips parting slightly as you feel his long finger sliding in so easily, thanks to your slick and relaxed body. It’s a new feeling. It’s not too painful, easing your worries further. Satoru didn’t wait to start moving his single digit, sliding it in and out of your warm tightness slowly, voice low and soft. “You’re doing so well with everything, Y/N. Such a good girl, not scared of anything. You trust me that much and I’m thankful, will only reward you with pleasure.” Satoru continues to take his time with pumping his finger, forehead resting against your quivering thigh for a moment as he fixates on the sweet feeling of your walls squeezing around. It takes everything within him to not pin you down and just have his way. It’s not just about him and never will be, even if he enticed you this far.

With a glance up towards your face and noticing how buzzed out you appear to be from the pleasure, Satoru slides his finger out, now pressing two of his fingers against your tight entrance. His tongue swirls against your throbbing clit as a distraction, sliding both of his fingers slowly, feeling your walls stretch even further. You whine from feeling your pussy stretch around his fingers, head tilting to the side to nuzzle against the pillow that smells of him, closing your eyes. There may have been a further stretch but everything still feels so fucking good as he pumps the two digits at a slow pace, sucking gently on your clit to further the pleasure.

You look so perfect in his eyes. Satoru is thankful to both destiny and himself, to be able to get you to this position and able to open your eyes to the world of pleasure. The world of sex. He angles his fingers as he picks up the pace of fingering you, desiring to find a certain spot. It didn’t take long at all, he realises. You cry out in surprise from feeling a more intense jolt of pleasure pierce through your body from your core, fisting the sheets and your hips start to roll, grinding down against his fingers. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Satoru curses repeatedly from witnessing the slutty sight of you now starting to fuck down against his long fingers. The very same fingers that rub against your sweet spot, causing moans to fall from your swollen lips, eyes clouded with new-found lust and your slick pooling out practically from how excited you are.

The lower half of his face is smeared with the same mess, pressing a final kiss to your clit before he moves himself up so he could hover above you properly, caging you in once more. The squelching sound of his fingers slowly fucking into you doesn’t embarrass you anymore and he only finds it to be hotter. You snake your arms around his neck to cling onto him, lips dragging along his broad shoulder. “So fucking pretty and all mine..” He breathes out, slowly inserting a third finger to properly stretch you out for him.

Your face scrunches up from feeling the subtle pain of your walls stretching out around the three long digits. He hushes you gently, lips to your temple and you could hear him mutter praise. It leaves your heart thumping fast with joy that the praise is for you and not some other girl. It’s all you. You feel his three digits drag along your velvety walls covered in your juices, the subtle pain slowly subsiding and turning into pleasure. It feels so good, the way they slide in and out. To be able to reach deeply but, it makes you wonder how deep his cock could go. You whimper, tightening your hold as you look up at him in complete admiration.

He cares for you so much. It’s that thought; the one repeating in your mind like a mantra that makes you realise. You’re ready and you want it now. You want him to finally take what you’ve been slowly craving to give him. You squeeze your thighs around his wrist, stopping his fingers that are buried inside of you. Satoru looks towards you, his free hand stroking along your hair lightly. He grins a little, unable to stop himself. “Ready, are you?” Finally. Satoru pulls away, fingers sliding out of your core, inspecting them. Strings of slickness connect his long fingers together and not wanting to waste a drop, slowly drags his tongue along his fingers to lick off your juices with a hum. Feeling flustered, you look away from the hot sight. He chuckles lowly and shifts himself until his cock is positioned near your womanhood but not quite. He’s pretending to reach towards his drawer. “Condom, I suppose.” He says and your hand whips out to grip onto his wrist, looking up at him. Satoru had a feeling that you’d stop him. Call him crazy, but he knows you pretty well. He feigns surprise, eyebrow raising.

“You don’t want me to use a condom?”

“Nn… No, I want to feel you properly.”

“Ah, is it because I’ve slept with others and used condoms?” Satoru teases and you huff, squeezing his wrist. Perhaps he’s sort of right. It seems your own selfishness is growing along the side of his and now that you’re in this position, about to give something special; you want to be the special one in his eyes. The chosen one. He laughs lightly, almost mocking, but really he’s endeared and quite pleased. This is what he wanted. “No condom when it comes to my sweet maid.” Satoru agrees before moving back, condoms lying forgotten at the back of his drawer.

One hand grips your hip to keep you in place as he positions his thick, pulsating cock against your pussy. He slowly grinds, watching in complete awe as his length slides between your folds, coating in your juices. You whine, sensitive whenever you feel him grind against your clit. One hand holds his cock by the base and he slaps his cock against your pussy with a happy sigh, head tilting back. ‘Fucking finally’, he thinks. Quietly, Satoru positions himself until his tip is pressing against your entrance.

Nerves flare up when you realise what’s about to happen and even though you deeply want him, you couldn’t help but wonder about the pain. He’s a lot bigger than three of his fingers. Noticing your nerves, Satoru reaches for your hand with his free one, lacing his fingers with yours and giving a squeeze. “The pain will go away quickly, baby. Do you trust me? You know I wouldn’t do anything bad. This is all for you… Everything is for you.” He says softly, the comforting words washing over you. You nod his head and smile gently, holding onto his hand. “I trust you, Master… I’m ready.”

With that, Satoru presses the tip of his leaking cock against your hole, brows furrowing as he realises truly how tight you are. It takes a little bit of force but he manages to nudge his tip inside of you and slowly begins to push his cock inside of you. You strangle out a cry, eyes widening as you look up at him in a mixture of emotions. Disbelief from how huge he is. The giddiness that you are finally giving him what he deserves to have. Pain from the wide stretch as your own cunt has to adjust to the new size. Tears glue to your long lashes, panting heavily to try and calm yourself down as your walls forcefully stretch around the new invasion. Something so much bigger than anything else before.

He’s squeezing your hand, groaning from feeling your velvety slick walls squeezing around his throbbing cock. It’s only a few inches but he pauses to allow you to adjust. Even though his body wants to act on its own and start jackhammering your tight pussy with his huge cock. You’re silently thankful that he’s pausing, nails digging into his hand as you close your eyes tightly. The tender strokes of his other hand aid you in relaxing. “My pretty girl... Sweet Y/N. It will be okay soon, I promise.” He reassures softly.

You eventually nod your head, a bit dazed by everything. With the sign to continue, Satoru pushes his hips forward. He slowly slides his length inside your core until he’s completely buried deep inside of you, every inch of him finally covered with the wet warmth of your heavenly walls. His muscles tense, head tilting back as he pants deeply from the sensation he feels, You choke on a moan of his name when he’s pushed deep inside of you and it hurts so badly to be stretched out to where you’ve never been stretched out before.

Satoru pushes through his selfish needs to lean down and embrace you, pressing loving kisses across your face, gently hushing you. “I know, I know... It will feel good soon, I promise. Baby girl, believe your Master. You trust him, don’t you? It will feel so good for you.” He whispers, keeping his throbbing cock still inside of you so your now non-virgin pussy could get used to the feeling. Thankfully, it’s not as bad as it could have been. You know that now. He did take care of you to feel good. To get that glimpse of pleasure and truth to be told, beyond the stretch? You love the feeling of being stuffed full of his beautiful cock. It makes you feel complete.

His large hands caress along your sides, lips brushing across your hot skin as he continues to help you ease into relaxing, forcing himself to ignore the way your walls keep clenching around his cock, wrapped around him so perfectly. You’re too out of it to be aware of time, but soon enough you start to move a little. It’s a signal for him to continue and that you’re ready for more. The white-haired male keeps his bigger body pressed against you, embracing you as he starts to move his hips, slowly fucking into you.

You whimper from feeling his hard length slowly slide within you. He doesn’t pull out of you entirely, thinking you’re not ready for it. Just keeping everything gentle and taking his time. Even though his hips stutter, eyes rolling at the pleasurable feeling that washes over him from your slick walls rubbing along his length. It hurts at first and you have to contain yourself through clenched teeth and nails digging into his hot flesh. You believe him that it will start to feel good and—

Oh… The pain is finally subsiding, being replaced with that pleasure that you’ve been hoping for. It’s subtle at first, leaving you all pleasant and tingly as you cling to him. You squeeze around his cock, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. He tilts his head to look at you, eyes swirling with lust mixed with something deeper that you don’t know. Satoru smiles down at you, leaning down to press his lips against yours to form a kiss as he picks up the pace of his cock thrusting into you. He’s right and always has been about everything. Foolish of you to have been nervous. The pleasure leaves tingles across your body as you feel his cock sliding in and out with ease from your aroused juices. He starts to move more, grinding down deep against you, hands cupping your sides to hold you. You moan happily into the kiss, fingers tangling into his hair to pull on. The ache that he feels only encourages him to move fast and deep. “Fuck, you’re so tight. So fucking good for me.” He moans against your lips before pulling away to look at your fucked out expression. Eyebrows knitted together to form a frown, lips open wide and eyes watery from tears that threaten to spill.

Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Satoru’s nails drag along your sides and you squirm, enjoying the light burn you feel from the nails scraping your skin. You spread your legs wider like you’re some eager slut for him to see everything and he loves it. He lifts his body off of you to finally witness the sight of his thick, long cock sliding in and out of you with ease. Your velvety walls continue to wrap snug and tight around his length whenever he pushes in, dragging along his cock when he slides out as if your needy cunt is desperate to keep him deep inside of you. It feels so fucking good to be filled by him.

It truly is a beautiful sight to see his cock appear and disappear before his eyes, loving the pleasure that surges through him from his cock whenever he’s buried deep to the hilt. “You’re all mine, fuck. Can’t believe it’s taken this long. Pretty pussy clenching around me. Never had something so big in your life, huh? Look at it making you bulge.” The filthy words continue to fall from his lips between grunts as his hips snap forward, thrusting into your pussy hard. His hand presses against your lower stomach to feel his thickness fucking into you. There’s no pain anymore, minus the burn of his scratches and sting when his balls slap against your ass as he pounds into your wet heat relentlessly.

All you can see are stars as ecstasy just washes over you in crashing waves. One hand helplessly gripping onto him and you could feel your breasts bounce with each hard impact. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mixing with the lewd sounds of your needy, high-pitched moans and his groans. You look at him in absolute awe, tears threatening to spill. He notices your expression mid-fuck and it only drives him further, each deep thrust of his throbbing cock becoming rough. “Fuck, god—” He curses and you cry out, latching desperately onto his words.

“Y-You’re my God!” You stutter out quickly, heart hammering from your confession. You couldn’t be in denial any more. He truly is your saviour, after all. Bills aside, he’s making love to you in the best way possible. A God does everything for their believers. He does everything for you. He took you in and eased your troubles. He’s giving you pure ecstasy in the form of his cock. Satoru has saved you. Satoru’s heart leaps from your words, driving to the point of insanity as he gazes down at you with pure satisfaction. You’re giddy from seeing how pleased he is, clinging hopelessly to the taller male.

“My perfect girl.” He huffs out, pulling his throbbing length out until only his tip is inside. Satoru didn’t even wait until he slammed himself in, feeling your slick walls gripping onto his cock, prompting you to scream out for him, tears spilling down your cheeks. To have you worshipping him and crying out in pleasure become his reality; leaves him feeling so happy. Happiness wrapped in his own ecstasy. You’re so happy as he continues to relentlessly fuck into you, feeling so empty whenever his cock slides out, only to pleasantly surprise you by filling your core to the brim again. It feels so fucking good. You swear you’ve never felt anything like this before.

Addiction for not only his cock but, the male in general begins to grow. Your fists grip the crinkled sheets to stabilise yourself as each rough thrust, though it seems to do nothing. His strength behind his thrusts is more than enough to cause your body to jerk upwards, moving against the mattress. As you continue to squeeze so sweetly around his pounding cock, Satoru pants heavily, completely tangled up in the pleasure that continues to surge through him, even causing his toes to curl. One hand fiercely grips your hip still, the other coming down to rub your clit. You strangled out his name, too blissed out to be embarrassed by anything. Not even how heavy you seem to cry from the pure euphoria that drowns you.

Satoru burns the image of you sobbing into his mind, wanting to forever remember the way your face scrunches up or how your eyes roll from the complete bliss and cheeks stained with tears. His thumb continues to rub in a circular motion, panting heavily and head tilting back, unable to contain himself like he could with other girls. No, you bring out the beast that resides within him. Relentless with his fucking and possessive growls parting from his lips. “All fucking mine, got it? No one else can have you. I’ll break them. This pussy belongs to me. You belong to me.” The white-haired male groans out, muscles tensing.

You’re barely able to process the hot words, only knowing it fuels your desire and happiness to be owned by the male. Your beloved God. Master to serve, always. Your stomach begins to feel tight, clit throbbing and with no true experience of an orgasm; even you know what rapidly approaches you as he fucks into your cunt. You squeeze around his length, whimpering loudly. Satoru can just tell when he looks down at you. Maybe from looking so fucked out by him and it makes his ego rise, but he’s eager to give you what you deserve for being so cute and obedient.

“Let it go, baby girl. Fall into it.” He whispers and you manage to tug him down so you’re clinging, trembling legs wrapping loosely around his waist for support. He presses a tender kiss to your temple, panting heavily and with his cock sliding out to the tip, he slams back into your warm hole and everything just seems to explode for you. Pleasure surges through your trembling body, leaving you gasping sharply and babbling out moans, unable to truly comprehend the ecstasy that you feel as you come around his cock. Your walls flutter, clenching repeatedly around his cock that starts to sloppily fuck into you. Your eyes are rolling, desperately gripping onto the taller male as your body continues to tense up before relaxing through a tremble. the intense orgasm easily overwhelming you.

Satoru hips stutter, driving himself further to his own orgasm as he feels your slick walls dragging along his thrusting length, pulsating around his thickness. His forearms pressed against either side of your head, panting heavily. “Fuck, good girl—” He praises you for climaxing, hearing the obnoxious squelching sound lacing with the slaps of his balls against your ass. With one look at you, Satoru slides out before sheathing his cock deep inside of you for the final time. His own waves of complete euphoria crash down on him and he moans out sweetly for you, forehead resting against yours as ribbons of white sticky cum start to fill you up. You feel so fucking full, stuffed with his throbbing length and his cum that continues to just pump inside of you, leaving you breathless and your head positively spinning.

Muscles like jelly, Satoru collapses onto you, trapping you down against the mattress and smothering you with his warmth, body light with sweat. Your breasts squish against his chest and fuck, even that makes him happy. He’s panting heavily, head resting next to yours and staying buried inside of you, not wanting to pull out. You still feel the bliss from your first proper orgasm, hand coming up to stroke along his toned back, letting yourself stay in the pleasant daze. He smiles softly, endeared by not only your gentle touch but the expression you wear. He leans in to scatter light kisses against your neck, hand coming up to tenderly cup your cheek. When he does manage to lift himself up, Satoru gazes at you with something you couldn’t quite figure out. It did make you feel all warm and happy though.

His thumb brushes tears away, kissing your forehead before he finally decides to slide out of your tight heat. You pout at the loss, feeling your hole clench now around nothing. His sticky cum already starting to seep out and smear across your thighs when you clench them together, wanting to stay full of his seed. He slumps onto his side, draping his arm across your body to pull you in. He actually got what he wanted and not only that, you’ve been shaped into someone who craves to worship him. That and, you felt good from him fucking your cunt. All wins in his book.

You shyly look towards him, rolling over to face him properly. A mixture of emotions begins to overwhelm you. You feel gratitude that he did this for you but, sadness seems to be stronger now. He only did this— He only made love with you because there was nothing else you could do in return for bills to be paid. What if you want more of him? Your bottom lip trembles and bring a hand up to wipe at your eyes. “Thank you, Master… For doing this. I know it— must be hard 'cause there was nothing else and I really appreciate that you’ll pay my bills so I won’t be homeless… And I’m even more thankful that you made my first time feel good.” Your voice is breathless, clearly, your throat is tired from all of the crying out for him.

His lips curl up into a knowing smirk, noticing the fear start to appear in your face once more. You want to rely on him. He leans up on his elbow, hand cupping the side of his face and he sighs, a little dramatically. “Yes, well. I’m always happy to help my sweet girl out. Don’t feel too guilty, you made me feel good. I really enjoyed myself, Y/N.” He says, free hand coming up to brush hair out of your eyes. He pretends to think deeply and you notice the frown appearing, eyes widening. “What? What is it? I’ll— I’ll do more if I have to? I want to. I don’t feel guilty, I really liked it.” You ramble out nervously, hand pressing against his toned chest. Deep down, you know it’s just you craving to touch him again. Satoru shakes his head, ignoring the way white strands of hair stick to his temples from sweat. His hand comes up to cup over yours, giving a loving squeeze.

“No, I just have an idea… Do you always want to worry about bills, Y/N? You’re always so stressed, I see it on your face all the time when you come to work. It concerns me. Every single day, your mind seems to be filled with your worries. Bills. Appointments. The potential threat of being homeless. Not being able to eat or time to wash clothes..” He trails off and you feel embarrassed that he seems to read your mind. It’s one of the main reasons you asked to wear shorts. Yet, why do you feel yourself starting to fill up with hope? What is this idea? “What is it, Master?” You whisper, leaning into him and eyes just showing are willing you are to be completely devoted to him. It’s a miracle his cock doesn’t start to harden for the third time. That would be pleasantly painful for him.

Quietly, Satoru laces his fingers with yours and brings them up to his lips, kissing your knuckles as his crystal blue eyes never leave yours. “Instead of being filled with worry, why don’t you live with your Master? Your God.” He emphasises, leaning in so his lips hover over yours. “I’ll take good care of you and not a single thing in that cute brain of yours will have to stress you out anymore. Just live day by day, happily by my side. Do whatever you want in your new home. You can continue to serve me, which I know you enjoy doing… In multiple ways, it seems.” He chuckles at his own implication and your heart starts to race.

Just the mere idea of living with him leaves you feeling ecstatic. It’s something you always wanted, really. You hated being so far away from him in the first place. You’d often think what if he needed you during the night? He cherishes you so much. Satoru has never been too strict with you. Always praising and spoiling you in his own ways. Wouldn’t that only grow if you lived with him? It excites you. Just the thought of always being around him. To be able to welcome him home from work properly. Besides, after making love with him… How could you not already crave more? Satoru waits patiently for your answer, pressing a tender kiss to the crook of your jaw. He already knows what you’ll say. He’s confident in that. Again, he selfishly thinks how you are meant for him, and he’s meant for you. You squeal softly, launching yourself at him and he manages to take hold of you, rolling together until he’s on his back and you’re on top of him, looking ever so pretty in his eyes; even with dried tears on your cute face and sweat coating your body.

“I want to live with you, Master.” You whisper, tears of happiness in your eyes. No more worries. Only comfort, peace, happiness and pleasure. Of course, the pleasure. Satoru smiles up at you, pleased with the success of his manipulation. All his for good. He remembers something. “Yeah? In that case, will you also wear cute maid outfits while you work?” He teases lightly, knowing you wouldn’t deny it. You nod eagerly, not bothered by how inappropriate that would be. You’re living with him as his ‘sweet maid’. Besides, maid outfits are cute; thoughts copying his from moments ago.

“Good girl. Now c’mere and give me a kiss.”

You oblige happily.

[harrygoeswest]

Infatuation On A Mutual Level

You and Harry are housemates and are both secretly quite fond of one another.

A/N: Woooo she’s here!!! I loved writing this one shot a lot and I really hope it shows. I haven’t had motivation to write for ages and this year I’ve really come back to it and I’m so happy. I hope you all love it as much as I do. She’s special to me. Special mention to the only person who ever wants to read for me @all-things-fic​ <3 Please come tell me what you think afterwards!! Katie x

Trigger Warnings: sexual content, brief mentions of loss, nightmares

Word Count: 18,777

~.~.~.~.~

Now

Every morning was the same.

The creak from the only bed on the first floor began the day. Then the gush of the tap in the shared bathroom. The kettle in the kitchen on the ground floor. The door closing when George left for the day. Then again 15 minutes later when Rhys did. Abbie starting the shower immediately afterwards now her boyfriend was gone. And then the only thing that ever made your skin prickle:

Harry’s door opening.

Every morning you would roll over at the sound, away from it. God forbid the man who defined ‘sex on legs’ ever pinned you with that warm, green-eyed stare first thing in the morning through the open gap of your own bedroom door. No, you might never be able to survive such a thing.

Living in a shared house was hard. Not least because you felt responsible for the place itself; owned by your single dad who would do anything to bring in what income he could, including taking more rent off his eldest child than he’d like. An argument arose regularly over your living situation but it was hard enough filling the fourth bedroom with a tenant. Living in the third was the least you felt you could do. The building was in dire need of some TLC but it wasn’t exactly an affordable fete. Sometimes the ceiling leaked on the second floor when it rained thanks to some shabby scaffolding work a few years back; the main reason why it was so hard to let the fourth bedroom. Part of you didn’t want to.

It was also hard in a house share because people were messy and you had a horrendous phobia of general mess. If you could quit your job and play full-time housekeeper you absolutely would. But your dad wouldn’t allow that. “Not in my lifetime,” He’d say with the gentlest scowl.

But the hardest part, by far, was being in such close proximity to the man who rented the bedroom across the hall. You weren’t sure why you were so terrified of him. Scarred by your original encounter with him, perhaps, but he wasn’t actually scary. He was, rather annoyingly, the nicest person in the house. Constantly aloof, yes, but still the poster boy for gentlemen everywhere.

Maybe if you spoke to him you’d learn he’s just a normal bloke, your inner voice trilled.

“Shut the fuck up.” You hissed into your pillow.

You waited for the inevitable sputter of the shower starting up again, and then rolled out of bed, threw on the clothes you’d hung up on the wardrobe door the night before - clean white shirt and grey trousers, ironed within an inch of their life - and scurried downstairs to arrange your usual to-go breakfast. Coffee in a reusable cup and a cereal bar. Hair and makeup could be fixed at work. You were always thirty minutes early anyway.

~

Harry wasn’t sure how you managed it. How every day you managed to evade him to avoid a puffy-eyed “good morning” or a potentially awkward conversation over breakfast.

As he stood in the hallway between your bedrooms towelling his hair dry in nothing but a pair of boxers and a damp t-shirt, he stared into your bedroom and marvelled yet again at how you seemed to have managed to keep it tidied to a borderline compulsive degree.

A large king bed sat against the left wall with ironed white linens and a plush sunflower yellow throw draped across the foot. One lone bedside table tucked against the right side with a tasselled muted green 60s velvet lamp and a book resting atop. A picture hung above the headboard - some vibrant canvas of abstract art. Every morning he wondered if you’d painted it yourself. Against the opposite wall stood a tall regal-looking cherrywood wardrobe next to a matching dresser with a sleek TV on top. It was the most modern thing about the room. In the window overlooking the garden a dream catcher hung in the dead centre. It was the only nicknack you seemed to have, and part of him hated that it seemed like something negative. Something to catch nightmares, to ward off evil.

Did you have bad dreams? And if so, why?

As always, the window had been opened two inches to let in fresh air. You never closed your door, not even at night. You never had clothes left out. Clutter didn’t exist in your vocabulary. Dust wasn’t permitted in your room. Or the bathroom, or kitchen, or living room, he’d deduced. You took Wednesdays off in the week and cleaned when no one else was home to bother you. He doubted the others had picked up on these things about you, but he’d noticed.

Harry had noticed a lot about you.

Especially that in the mornings, you waited until he took his bathroom time to get ready for work and leave without having to run into him. Some chaotic part of him wanted to change his routine so you’d have to. He wanted to know what you looked like straight out of bed with puffy eyes and linen marks on your cheeks and hair in disarray. The other part of him, the gentleman, told him not to. Who knew what might happen if he threw your routine off kilter.

Distress, probably?

No. He wouldn’t be having that.

Shaking his head, he wandered into his own room and shut the door behind him. One day the puzzle of you would finally form a complete picture. Today, he settled for the tethered, jumbled segments he’d managed to collect this far.

~

You stared at your phone, face a picture of bewilderment. Deciphering text messages from the housemates was starting to get increasingly difficult, no thanks to the fact that you were shit at it and everyone else seemed to excel.

Blackpool Tower

🌚 👰🏼❌🧽🍽️🔄

🌝 🙈🖕🏼

👰🏼 😕

Translation: Abbie George didn’t wash his dishes again.

Rhys Oh for fuck’s sake.

George Whoops.

You were on a roll with the emojis. It had started as a joke because George had said he hated people who only used emojis to text each other rather than actual words, so for a week the four of you had sent every text using only emojis. Then it had turned into a bet: how long could all of you go without using words, and who would be the first one to crack. You all knew that, without a doubt, Rhys would crack first, even though he was the one who’d proposed the bet in the first place. It had been two weeks and no one had cracked yet.

🍉 🤔👰🏼🥄🥄🍱🔄

👰🏼 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😠

🌝 😒🙄

🌚 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

👑 ❌❌❌❌❌❌❌

Translation:

Harry Maybe George should cook dinner again…

George HAHAHAHAHAHAHA no.

Rhys Yeah right.

Abbie No thank you.

You Absolutely fucking not.

Why did all of you have such ridiculous headers?

Abbie and Rhys were the twin moons because that was the look they always gave each other when they thought something was cute, funny, interesting, or otherwise. They’d moved into the house as a couple and had remained in said couple for 3 years. Sharing a room was their way of saving money to buy a house. It made sense.

George was a blonde bride because he was the most outwardly gay man any of you had ever known and often acted like an utter madam. Madam was actually George’s nickname to his friends now thanks to the house’s light ribbing. He had also chosen his own emoji.

Harry was the watermelon because we were never without it thanks to a frankly concerning obsession. If there wasn’t a watermelon in the fridge, or slices, or packaged chunks, something was very wrong.

And you were the crown because you’d refused to pick an emoji and the house had affectionately bestowed the title of Tower Queen to you. You’d pretended to hate it, but they all knew you viewed it as the highest compliment.

Oh, and the group chat was called Blackpool Tower because you lived together in a tall, two-rooms-to-a-floor townhouse at the top of town. The Eiffel Tower had been suggested but George immediately pointed out that we were not a classy enough bunch to live in such a fine establishment. I’d told him to speak for himself.

The talk of food made you hungry, and it hit you like a landslide that you hadn’t had any dinner. You rolled off your bed and sent a text to Blackpool Tower, then shoved your phone away.

~

Multiple things happened at once. The shower turned on in the bathroom; your bedroom door opened with a quiet creak (which would not happen again since you went through WD40 like a bee in pollen); Harry’s phone vibrated with another text.

Blackpool Tower

👑 👩‍🍳🍝 … 🌚🍝🌝🍝🍉🍝➡️🧊 … ❌🍝👰🏼

Harry snickered.

Translation: You Making dinner. Leftovers in the fridge. None for George.

It wasn’t unusual you’d make enough food for everyone. Harry had learned that you’d picked that trait up from your dad. Sometimes no one would stop you, especially since there was never anything wrong with a meal you’d cooked. In fact, if there were a restaurant with food cooked by you, Harry would dine there every night. But he also knew that letting you cook for all the other housemates all the time wasn’t fair.

🌚 🍉➡️🍉❌🍉➡️🍉❌👑

👰🏼 🚫🚫🚫🚫

“For fuck’s sake.” He muttered.

Rhys must have been in the shower. If George or Abbie were home they’d have rugby tackled you to the floor given the chance.

Harry abandoned his phone and lurched out of his room, down the stairs to the kitchen. He nearly stacked it twice but he made it, with panting breaths to accompany him.

You turned your gaze on him with a startled look, giving him a once over. “What are you doing…?”

“Don’t you dare cook for everyone else.”

You blinked twice and then rolled your eyes. “It’s fine - I’ve got plenty.”

“It’s not fair.”

“If I don’t cook it today it’ll go off. So might as well.”

Harry looked at the produce you’d piled on the counter and back at you, then back again. “Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You bought enough for everyone.” He straightened and folded his arms across his chest.

You spluttered and scoffed for far too long. “No.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t stop me.” You scowled at him.

It was the most emotions he’d ever seen on you. If he’d known all this time that all he needed to do to get a conversation out of you was wind you up a bit, he’d have done it much sooner.

“Yes I can.”

You put a hand on your hip. Christ. “How?”

He stared at you, statuesque and cursing himself for challenging a bet he couldn’t win. You were right. How would he stop you? He wasn’t going to drag you away from the kitchen and up the stairs without your permission. Hell, he didn’t want to do anything without your permission, threats begotten. He hadn’t thought this through.

You let out a breath, a mocking one, and turned away from him and picked up a knife to start chopping. “Didn’t think so.”

“You can’t do this forever.”

Chop.

“Do what?” You challenged, refusing to look at him again.

Chop chop.

“Look after every person that comes in here because you feel like you owe people something. The world will take advantage of you. Is that what you want?”

Your shoulders visibly tensed over the words that tumbled out of his mouth. They weren’t even spoken with malice. They were soft and cautious.

CHOP.

“This feels like a very deep conversation to be having on a Tuesday evening.”

He growled, frustrated. “Stop babying everyone.”

Chopchopchop.

“If they didn’t want me to baby them they simply wouldn’t let me. And maybe I like babying people. Sometimes it’s nice to have a responsibility.”

“That’s just it, though. They’re not your responsibility.”

You smacked the knife down on the chopping board and turned to face him, an unfamiliar anger in your eyes that muddled with something else murky and grey. Hurt. “Will you just let me cook my fucking dinner in peace?”

Harry stood, tense, staring at you with his fists clenching and unclenching. Finally, he said, “Fine. But you’ve got to let me help you.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Harry.” Your head lolled back.

“Two different people, but I appreciate why you might get confused.”

You stared at him for an indecipherable length of time. Or gawked might have been a better descriptor. And then you snatched the tea towel off the side and smacked it in a whip-like movement against his arm. “Git.”

~

Two weeks later and you and Harry had begun a sort of ritual; you would cook with each other every other night. The distinct difference was that when you bought food, you bought enough for everyone. When Harry did it he only bought enough for the two of you.

You hadn’t quite figured out yet if being in this new… friendship with Harry was better or worse. Cooking together four nights a week versus blissful ignorance towards him and his attractiveness? The now near-constant proximity to him was making your head spin for stupid reasons. Namely said attractiveness.

His biceps for one. No one should be allowed arms that had the ability to make one’s mouth water. Pair his strong muscles with the litter of tattoos that were drawn down his right arm and you’d found yourself sweating even on the coldest day. A man’s body should not have such a strong effect on a person, yet here you were - a swoon personified.

Then there was his face, which was worse. Eyes mouth jaw. Those three things individually on a man were the first thing that always drew you in, but Harry had a triple threat. Seaglass green, blush pink and the perfect 100 degree angle. Not too square. And to top it all off, a wispy mop of chestnut waves atop his big head.

The perfect man?

“Aye,” Harry took the knife off you before you started chopping an onion, “thought we established that needed sharpening. A blunt knife is more dangerous than a sharp one.”

A man who cared about your wellbeing?

His bedside manner could use some work.

“Fuck off.” You whispered to your inner voice.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, cheeks burning. Great, he probably thought you were crazy.

You silently passed Harry the stone out of the drawer. He could sharpen it if he was going to make such a big deal out of it.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, and started swiping the edge of the knife along the full length of the stone.

Chalky noises. Sharp noises. Furrowed brow. Biceps flexing. Obscenely attractive. Abort abort abort.

You busied yourself by turning on the hob and drizzling oil into a pan. Basically looking anywhere but at Harry and his arms. Sexy arms.

Sex on legs.

Your legs were wobbling. A flame of burdened heat licked its way between your thighs and you had to lean against the counter to stop from buckling. It had been a long time since a man had touched you.

Yeah. This was worse. Definitely worse. Hyper-awareness of everything going on around you wasn’t unusual, but being hyper-aware of everything Harry did was like some unfound form of torture. There was being attracted to someone and then there was whatever this situation was.

Ridiculous?

It was ridiculous, but at least you could suffer knowing that your inner voice had been wrong. Harry was not a normal bloke. He was some kind of enigma.

~

For the past couple of nights Harry had kept his door open. He’d learned that you did indeed have nightmares regularly so the dreamcatcher you kept in your bedroom window was doing little for your unconscious mind. He’d debated buying a bigger one for you but wasn’t entirely sure how appropriate that would be.

You weren’t loud. In fact, if he hadn’t kept his door open he never would’ve known, because the ajar-ness of his door had come prompted for completely different reasons - that unusual urge to see you first thing in the morning. Now two nights in a row he had been woken up by your little yelp, followed with a hissed string of curses while shifting around your bedsheets to get comfortable again. As soon as he knew you were asleep, he wasn’t too far along after you.

He still hadn’t been able to decide if cooking with you nearly every night was a good thing or a bad thing. While he never failed to enjoy himself during your bi-nightly kitchen sessions, he hated separating from you afterwards. It wasn’t enough. The persistent nearness of you for an hour or so only to be followed by a later severance was almost painful. The bedroom door being left open was just another attempt at trying to get closer to you.

He knew it was you in the bathroom because you took longer than everyone else. Not because you were using up all the hot water but because you used it as an excuse to give it a thorough clean. Being able to hear everything going on in the house was both a gift and a curse, but Harry wasn’t attuned to all the tenants. Only you.

Five minutes later the bathroom door opened, and you plodded up the two flights of stairs. He knew the way all the stairs creaked, and you were going at nothing more than a leisurely pace. He caught a glimpse of you as you passed, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. The scent of strawberries and jasmine wafted through the gap in his door after you.

Harry’s phone vibrated.

Blackpool Tower

🌝 Friends coming over tomorrow night for drinks 🍻 we’ll behave

👰🏼 You idiot

🌚 RHYS

🌝 NOOOOOOOOOO

🍉 Pay up dipshit

🌝 😭😭😭

A few minutes later Harry got a notification to say he’d received a £10 payment into his bank account.

~

Then

The cold had crept in again. Not from the weather - it was warm at night. This was a different kind of cold. The sweaty kind that kept you up at night. Medication had kept the nightmares away for some time but now you were locked in the house for the foreseeable future you couldn’t bear the idea of being constantly dimmed down by it in front of your housemates.

Last night was the first time you’d had a nightmare in close to a year and it was just as terrifying as it used to be. Some traumas just wouldn’t leave you be. You’d taken a couple of painkillers to numb your headache and they’d graciously knocked you out for another few hours and brought you right on through to 8am. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d slept that late. With everyone at home all the time now, it seemed no one wanted to get out of bed.

You had a job to do today, anyway. The room next to yours had finally been rented, so you’d been tasked with giving it a proper clean before the new tenant arrived this evening.

You did need to eat, but before that you wanted to get the window open in there to coax some fresh air in.

Hauling yourself out of bed, you meticulously tidied your room the same you did with every morning, dressed in clothes appropriate for cleaning, and took the short step across the hall to the other room.

The door was closed which was unusual. You always left the doors to the empty rooms open with a wedge so they wouldn’t get stuffy from disuse. Maybe you’d opened the window yesterday and forgot? Had the wind closed it for you?

Shrugging to yourself, you opened it anyway.

“Oh,” your eyes widened, “fuck, shit, sorry.”

Inside, collapsed face down on the bed dressed with only a sheet was a man, near-naked in only a pair of boxers. You couldn’t see much of his features bar a mop of chocolate curls, a heavily tattooed arm, and a particularly nice arse beneath his pants.

He lifted his head, complete with a gorgeous profile, and peeled open an eye. A very green, beautiful eye. He made a confused, questioning noise.

The room was full of belongings, so this must be the new tenant and not some homeless person who’d managed to sneak in without anyone realising. At least you hoped.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were moving in later today. Sorry.”

“Friday.” He managed. A sleep-coated, groggy and somewhat delirious voice. It was delicious. You wanted to taste it.

“What?”

“Friday was moving day.”

“Yes. Today.”

“No. Yesterday.”

You looked at your phone. “Christ. I’m sorry. Isolation is getting to me. You don’t care. I’m sorry. I’m interrupting your sleep. I’ll go. Sorry.”

You pulled the door closed before you could embarrass yourself any further, and then hid yourself in the bathroom out of sheer embarrassment.

If you never saw that marvellous-looking man again it would be too soon.

~

Now

Harry often thought about that first day.

Morning. Just after dawn. Early summer sun casting you in gold. Tiny shorts. Faded creaseless t-shirt. Sleepy face messy hair.

He hadn’t seen you anything of the sort since and he craved it like an addict did cocaine.

A pandemic had ruined many things for many people, and the most recent ruin back then had been Harry’s longest relationship. That’s what had brought him to a double bedroom in a shared house rather than a flat and his own fucking space. He couldn’t afford the latter.

It had been hot that night, moving into a new home in the darkness. He’d picked up the key from the owner, your dad it had turned out, and transferred his possessions from one place to another in the late night simply to avoid having to discuss his situation with people he didn’t know.

But yes, the heat is what had caused him to strip down to his underwear before passing out. The startled look on your face at the sight of him had absolutely been worth it. The sight of you had been worth it. Such a strong attraction to someone fresh after a breakup should be wildly inappropriate, but there you suddenly were, bare-legged and dangling yourself in front of him like a piece of string to a kitten. Still, the fact remained that Harry liked to think himself a gentleman. He tried to be a gentleman, and after living so close to you for so long, it didn’t take long to learn that you liked to keep to yourself. So he had done the same.

Until now, apparently.

“That housemate of yours here?”

Harry’s ears pricked up at the question like a cat’s would if it heard something interesting. He recognised the voice and hated the speaker. He always had. Today was no exception.

“Which one? I’ve got three of ‘em if we don’t include Abbie.” Rhys’s oblivious laughter filtered up the stairs to the sanctuary of the top floor.

“Well I ain’t talkin’ about the lads, am I?”

Harry shivered. He imagined if you could hear them then you would too.

“She’s here”, “Don’t bother,” came simultaneously from Rhys and Abbie. Abbie sounded almost defensive, and that pleased Harry to no end.

“Why not?”

“Because she isn’t interested.”

“Maybe you should let her decide that for herself.”

Unconsciously, Harry rose from the desk in his room and made his way across the hall to yours. The door was open, obviously.

You were sitting up with a book but you had earplugs in. Whether it was playing music or just to block out the noise from downstairs he wasn’t sure. As soon as you spotted him a small smile curved on your lips, and you pulled an earplug out. It was playing music.

Harry had never met anyone who could listen to music and read at the same time. There were surely plenty, but this put you in the Elite Tier in his head.

“What’s up?”

Footsteps began on the stairs, and Harry threw a cautionary glance over his shoulder before he slipped inside and closed the door behind him, sliding the lock across.

You were leaning forward now, a crease in your brow. “What’s going on?”

“Rhys’s friends are here.”

You blinked. “I know.”

“Yes but his idiot friends are here.”

You tipped your head. “I’m not following.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know… Gaz? The one with the teeth.”

“Oh. Right. Why not? He’s harmless, no?”

“Is he? I’m not so sure.”

Your name suddenly trilled from the floor below. “You home?”

You looked at the door as Harry moved to the side, dumbfounded. Harry shook his head at you when you began to move.

Why not? You mouthed.

Harry pretended to drink from an invisible glass and grimaced.

The idiot called your name again and knocked on the door. “Come on, come say hi.”

Harry was really scowling now. You flashed glances between him and the door multiple times.

“She’s probably asleep, mate!” Rhys hissed from outside the door. “She works early some Saturdays.”

That was not true. You’d never worked weekends, not even as a teen. It was Rhys’s smart ruse to get him to back off.

The door handle jostled. Harry suddenly looked more threatening than a mafia boss, and your jaw fell slack from shock.

“Oi,” smack, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What? Worth a shot.”

“No it fuckin’ weren’t, go downstairs.”

Some heated muttering commenced, but neither you nor Harry moved or spoke until you were satisfied they wouldn’t hear anything.

“Did he seriously just try and get in here?”

“While you were ‘sleeping’?” Harry air-quoted around the word. “Yes. He did. Hence the distrust.”

“What the fuck…”

He watched you for a moment and the look on your face said it all. You were upset, in a confused sort of way. Your mind was somewhere else, no longer in this room. Eyes glassy and breathing shallow.

Someone had tried to come into your personal space while they had the impression you were sleeping. If that had been the case there was no telling what would’ve happened. If Harry hadn’t come in you probably wouldn’t be any the wiser to Rhys’s friend’s real character, and that was what scared him. You had a tendency to put too much faith in people as just people. If someone was being nice to you that must mean that they are nice.

“What are you reading?” He asked into the silence, not only to break the quiet but to pull you out of the trance you’d been in.

“Oh, er,” you looked down at the book in your lap and turned it upwards, flashing the cover to him, “some daft romance.”

You put it aside after slotting the bookmark inside to keep your place. He smirked to himself. God forbid you dogear a page.

“Happy ending?”

You nodded, playing with your loose earbud. “Yeah. Has to be.”

“They’re my favourite.”

You gawked at him then. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Is that so shocking?”

You laughed musically. “I don’t know… I kind of assumed a guaranteed happy ending would irritate you or something.”

“Not at all. Sad endings are rubbish.”

“Aren’t they?” You patted the bed by your lap, suddenly animated. “I hate them.”

“Me too.”

“What are they for? No one wins, everyone is miserable, and someone has almost always died in the middle.”

He folded his arms, brows furrowed in a mock defence. “Now who hurt you? Tell me. Who do I need to beat up?”

“John Green.”

Harry scoffed. “He’s the worst.”

“Paper Towns? What the fuck was that all about?”

“Load of shit.”

“Exactly!”

He grinned, relaxing his posture. A commotion began downstairs, and he turned over his shoulder towards the door. Two phones dinged inside the room.

Blackpool Tower

🌝 🍻🍻➡️🌃➕👰🏼

You were being left alone. Thank God.

Harry met your gaze with a passive smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”

“Wait…”

He raised a single brow at you. “Yes?”

“Why don’t we watch a movie? If they’re pissing off out…”

He was both surprised and elated by your suggestion. All he’d be doing otherwise was looking for flats to move into alone and listening to some murder podcast before passing out. Friday nights were raucous in one’s late twenties.

“Two movies.” He bargained. “One we can bitch about first, and then one we like to make ourselves feel better.”

Your returning smile was prizewinning. Priceless. “And… takeaway? I really don’t want to cook.”

He clicked and pointed a finger at you. “You’ve got yourself a deal, madam.”

~

This was a new low for you. Or perhaps it was a high - you hadn’t decided yet. Using the newfound common ground over a love of happy endings off the back of the fear of a mad man trying to let himself into your room to coax Harry into a movie night with you. In your room, no less. The house was empty yet you chose to suffer the shitty WiFi signal in your tower room because your bed was more comfortable than the communal sofa in the living room on the ground floor. The cold ground floor.

Now, after a shared pizza that was delivered in record speed, you and Harry lay parallel to one another as you batted bitchy comments between one another about the infuriatingly devastating plot of Atonement.

“I wanna smash her face into a wall.”

You nearly choked on your wine, and wiped a pre-existing tear off your cheek. “Harry,”

“What?” He whined. “Every time I get to the end and she tells the real story I see red. Why get people’s hopes up like that?”

His eyes were red around the rims.

You sat forward as the credits began to roll and looked at him with a timid smile. “Opinionated, aren’t you?”

He was draped across the left side of your bed closest to the door, legs crossed at the ankle and hands tucked behind his head against the headboard. He was close to slouched, but he looked so impossibly at ease you wanted to just nestle right into him.

You could do it. Nothing is stopping you.

You repressed a growl.

“Coming from you?” He retorted, amused.

Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at him. “What’s next?”

He pursed his lips and gave a thoughtful look towards the ceiling. “Notting Hill?”

You gasped. “Fuck yes. Do you fancy dessert?”

“Always. What have you got?”

“I picked up a chocolate trifle on the way home from work.”

“That sounds dirty as fuck.”

“It is dirty as fuck.” You agreed and stood from your bed. “I picked it up on the way home with the intention of eating it all by myself, but… I’m willing to share.”

“How kind.” Harry chuckled. You felt his gaze on you leaving the room.

Two minutes later you returned with an unwrapped trifle and two spoons. Harry had already found Notting Hill on one of the many subscription sites you paid for and had it paused right at the start. He sat up straighter as you settled back down, pressed play, and then the two of you sunk into cake and gooey chocolate layered beneath sweet cream.

“Is Hugh Grant too posh?” Harry asked between mouthfuls.

“Yes, but it suits him?” Your question pondered. “Like, I couldn’t imagine him with a Scouse or Georgie accent.”

Harry’s returning laughter was delighted, magical. “This would be a very different film if he did.”

You gave a gutterall, mischievous laugh. “I would like to see it.”

Once you’d spoiled yourselves with trifle you settled back down, two parallel figures unmoving in the dim room, except to drink wine.

Harry was an ominous presence beside you. Warmth radiated off him in languid rolls, beckoning to you like an evil sea siren. Your hands fisted on your stomach, muscles tense. It really was taking everything in you not to lean into him and inhale his scent. Let it lull you to sleep like a safety blanket.

Occasionally you peeked glances at him. If he’d noticed you he never said anything, and it made you brave. After so long the film became background noise and Harry was the real star. A black t-shirt across a flat, muscular chest, steady breaths causing a rise and fall. Black jogging bottoms that rose higher up his legs with each slight movement, showing more scrumptious leg hair per inch. Big, boney, veiny feet with heinously long toes. Hair taken off his face with a tiny claw grip, a little greasy around the ears.

The overwhelming need to shove your face into his armpit finally gave motive to look away. Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts meant nothing anymore. There was a sexy man sprawled across your bed who ate your trifle and wanted to watch stupid rom-coms with you.

You fell asleep before the end.

~

Harry was sure he was dreaming. It wasn’t possible, the situation he found himself in. It was what he wanted, what he had really wanted for a while now, but the actual possibility of it coming to fruition had been next to none. Zero. Impossible.

He’d woken up in your room. That was the first tell that he was still dreaming. Then he found a warm body curled around him, and him around them in return. Your warm body. Leg draped over his thigh, arm slung across his torso, head tucked under his chin, his arms around your shoulders and inhaling your strawberry shampoo.

You were both still on top of the covers, neither able to finish the movie without passing out. He’d even noticed you had nodded off first but he didn’t want to leave you without making sure you’d lock the door behind you again in case Rhys and his idiot friends returned.

Huh. Maybe it wasn’t a dream. That was too accurate and not nearly lucid enough for an unconscious mind.

He didn’t want to move in case he stirred you, but he was desperate to see your face. Your beautiful, sleeping face. He refused to believe you’d cuddled up to him while conscious. Because it had been that way around - you were parked up on his side of the bed. His lips pricked upwards at the corners with that knowledge.

It was raining heavily outside. It fell against the window in loud smatters, the room cast in a dull grey tone. It made him want to squeeze you tighter, to keep you from any harm. He still refrained.

Eventually you woke. He could tell from the way your body tensed and your breath caught in your throat.

“Don’t freak out.” He mumbled, voice thick from lack of use.

You took in a deep, obvious breath. “No? Why not?”

“You don’t need to.”

“I think I do.”

“Explain, please.”

You hesitated, wetting your lips, and took in another deep breath. “I’ve embarrassed myself.”

“How?”

“I’ve put myself into your personal space without your permission.”

“You were unconscious.” He argued.

“Doesn’t make it any better. You should’ve run for the hills the second my foot touched your lovely hairy leg.”

Harry chuckled. He tightened his arm around you and brushed his nose through your messy hair. “Maybe I don’t mind you in my personal space. Maybe… I like it.”

“Do you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps?”

He laughed again. “You’ve nothing to worry about.”

You sat up and faced him.

Gah. There you were. Puffy eyes, cracked lips, scruffy hair. His stomach did a backflip at the sight of you - a dream he had nightly. In equal measure, he missed having the warmth and weight of your body against him.

“Don’t think about it too much.” He gave you a gentle smile. “Nothing needs to be complicated.”

You remained silent, either awestruck or dumbfounded. He wasn’t sure.

He stood, reluctantly, and pinched your cheek. “You’re cute when you’re in shock.”

That sorted you out. Your face rearranged itself into a scowl, gaze following him as he left the room. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but such a conversation felt too poignant for 8 o’clock in the morning. You needed space to let your thoughts take over.

~

Cooking dinner and movie nights. That had become yours and Harry’s thing. After he’d dropped what you considered a bombshell that he didn’t mind you in his personal space you’d had the longest shower of your life - accidentally using all the hot water - and then spent the morning face down on your bed trying not to scream into your pillow.

Since then you’d been obsessively cleaning, more so than usual by way of distraction from the man living across the hall. The house was spotless. You’d even cleaned the windows at one point, outside, with help from your dad and looked at a way to fix the leaking problem in the empty bedroom.

It still didn’t stop your mind from constantly drifting back to the other morning. Waking up curled around Harry like that had been both terrifying and utterly perfect. For a man with such a hard physique he’d been incredibly comfortable. Too comfortable. Then he’d said a number of things that threw your somewhat orderly brain into complete disarray and chaos.

“You’re cute when you’re in shock.”

Harry hadn’t seemed to take his own words lightly, either. He’d been more comfortable in closer proximity with you since that morning, in the little things like light touches to your arms and back while you cooked together, or a kiss on the top of your head before you disappeared into your room for the night. Some nights you would share a bed after a movie because it was just easier - you were already settled, and you always woke up cuddled against him like a fucking creep.

“This,” Harry said as he pulled the oven door open, a waft of heat filling the cold room, “is gonna be fuckin’ banging.”

“Mhm.” You quipped, shoving a tortilla chip into some salsa, and then into your gob.

It was a Saturday night. By a freak stroke of luck, all the other housemates had gone away for the weekend - George to his parents’ and Rhys and Abbie on a weekend break to Amsterdam. So, a dinner and movie night had been a given, but you’d stuck a portable heater in the communal living room downstairs, found as many blankets as you could and piled them onto the sofa, then queued up enough movies to last all night.

Harry’s carefully crafted pizza sat atop the stove, cooked to perfection with your favourite ingredients on one half and his on the other. Your mouth watered.

You carried everything into the lounge, set it all up on the coffee table, and pressed play on your first movie of the night.

It was civil while you ate, and you were admittedly starving. To Harry’s credit the pizza was delicious and you wished it was bigger because you could’ve eaten another. You filled the hole in your stomach with tortillas and salsa instead. He graciously took all the dirty plates back into the kitchen when you were done, and returned with two bowls of strawberries, raspberries, and of course, watermelon. It was a very healthy dessert but the watermelon looked seriously out of place.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me eat your watermelon.” You joked. “Feels like a sacred honour.”

He snorted but remained silent.

Eventually, after all the food and a couple of glasses of wine, you were horizontal, your feet in Harry’s lap. He had his hands locked around your ankle after you accidentally kicked him in the thigh.

“If you were in a rom-com, who would you want to play your love interest?”

Harry pursed his lips. “Hugh Grant.”

You giggled, turning your face into the sofa cushion. “90s or current Hugh Grant?”

“90s. Current Hugh Grant is into much more sophisticated roles that I don’t care for. Even if they are generally great films.”

“I see…” you mused.

He squeezed your ankle, a smile flirting on his lips. “No, I don’t know. Who’s queen of romantic comedies? Reese Witherspoon? J-Lo?”

“Oh my God, I love J-Lo.” Your voice was a dreamy, breathy sound.

“A fine woman indeed.”

“I love it when you talk like it’s the 1800s.”

He laughed so loudly it was almost a bark. “Noted. Who would you want to play opposite?”

“Sam Claflin.”

“The king of rom-coms.”

“Exactly. Very easy on the eye.”

Harry was smirking again. His hands were moving now, smoothing up and down your leg in easy strokes.

Thank fuck you shaved, you little scruffy bear.

You mentally flicked your inner tormentor behind her ear.

The film played on and held your attention for some time. You were possibly the most relaxed you’d been for a very long time. Not one muscle in your body felt tight.

Harry’s lackadaisical caressing continued, which you were still half-conscious of. It was nice to be touched that way - you don’t think you ever had been. You didn’t panic until you realised he’d been venturing just a touch further up your leg with every stroke; until his fingers tickled your thigh.

You gasped, grabbing his wrist, wrenched yourself upright.

Heat flooded your centre, slick and warm. It was so instantaneous it took you by surprise, and your cheeks burned, the tips of your ears warm.

His eyes were on you, wider than usual. “Sorry,” he tried to speak but it only came out in a whisper.

What is wrong with you, woman? You wanted this.

The inner tormentor was right. You had wanted it, and for quite some time. But the advance of it had taken you so completely off-guard that your body had reacted before your brain did.

“Shouldn’t have done that.” Harry muttered, a furrow between his brow. He was angry with himself.

Finally you managed to shake your head. You managed to manoeuvre yourself by taking one leg - the leg he still had his hand on because you were keeping it there - off his lap and tucked it under itself. You pressed his palm flat against your skin, smoothing over each of his long fingers in turn, and met his intense gaze.

You were much closer now, faces and bodies mere inches from each other. You could feel his breath against your face, and you knew he could feel yours too from the way his eyelids fluttered with each exhale. Shiny eyelids, you noted.

He slowly closed the space to brush his nose upwards against yours, and your next exhale was much shakier.

“What are we doing?” You asked.

“Whatever you want.”

You wanted many, many things. And 99% of them involved him.

You licked your lips, and his gaze dropped to them at the action. Your stomach squirmed and your inner voice squealed with nerves.

Harry placed his other hand firmly on your hip and tugged, and you spilled over his lap, straddling him with your hands using his shoulders for balance. Another gasp fell out of you at the feeling of a certain something between your legs. A certain hard something.

“Is this okay?” He asked, both hands tentative on your thighs.

“Mhm.” You managed.

His hands spread wider, and you grew wetter, breathing heavier

He swallowed thickly. “Can I kiss you?”

All you could do was nod.

You noticed the beginning of a smile before his mouth was on yours. That mouth you’d thought of many times, at all hours, on all days of the week. And it was finally on yours, and perfect too. Soft, big, spongy. It felt like heaven against your own.

He took his time, leisurely testing the waters with you. What you would allow and what you wouldn’t. What you liked and what you didn’t.

You liked all of it.

His tongue was reverent as it eased your lips open, but thorough once you’d granted him access to you. He tasted like strawberry and watermelon, a delicious combination. A lethal combination.

His hands still smoothed over your thighs, reaching for your arse but never quite making it there. He didn’t want a repeat of the previous reaction from you.

You held onto him tightly, hands squeezing over his shoulders in an accidental but welcomed massage. You wanted to touch him everywhere but weren’t sure if he was okay with it.

“I never thought I’d be able to do this with you.” Harry’s voice was gruff, strained. He spoke against your lips.

“Neither did I.” You said breathily.

“Thought about it a lot.”

“Me too.”

He groaned into your mouth, hands rising to your hips and waist, tugging on your loose t-shirt.

You continued kissing, mouths bruising with lust, skirting around the removal of clothes. His arousal only got harder between your legs and it made you wriggle. Your wriggling caused friction, and the friction caused whimpers.

“I won’t last if you make noises like that.”

This information gave you immense satisfaction. He practically ate the smile off your face, and you wriggled again over the top of him. More whimpers, more movement. Back and forth, back and forth until you were utterly soaked inside your pyjama shorts.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed.

“Harry,” you moaned, fisting his t-shirt at the chest.

“Keep going.” He practically begged.

You gave a frustrated noise and did as he said, rolling your hips over the length of his clothed shaft. Over and over and over again. Tits began to bounce. Back began to sweat. Toes began to curl.

Harry stripped you of your top and buried his face in your chest. Kissing, licking, sucking, bruising. A canvas of vivid colour. He dragged his lips across any inch he could, leaning forward, arching you backwards, just to access more. More more more.

Rolling, dragging, rolling and dragging your dampness against his erection. It was your sole focus. You needed it - the release you hadn’t felt for some time. You were always too nervous to masturbate with only two walls and doors separating you and Harry. You needed this more than anything else.

He held onto your back with one strong arm, hand gripping your waist while his other cupped your breast, and he took your nipple into his mouth without any further hesitation. Lick, suck, lick.

You squealed at the sensation, grabbed his face and brought his mouth back to yours. Faster faster faster you moved your hips and devoured his mouth until-

“Harry!”

Heat burst through your body, crashing through every cell, corner and crevice. You were tense as you came, clinging to Harry as tightly as possible. Then, as breath left you, you fell limp against him.

Harry stroked your hair and kissed your temple. His nose drew circles on your cheek.

When you pulled back, thoughts catching up to you, you looked confused.

“What?” He asked, head tipped to one side.

“This doesn’t make sense to me.”

“What doesn’t?”

“This,” you pointed between him and you.

“Why doesn’t it?”

“Because,” you gestured at him and then dropped your hands to your lap, “have you seen you?”

“Many times.”

You gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m serious, Harry. People that look like you aren’t interested in people who look like me.”

“What a horrifically outdated cliche.” He said in a flinchingly bored tone. “For the record, I think you’re bloody gorgeous. Have done since the day I met you.”

“Why?”

“Because I do! Life is too fucking short to let society dictate who is attractive enough to date who.”

You made a face, one where your eyebrows and your mouth stretched. “Yes, but-,”

“-No buts. I fancy the pants off you and that’s all you need to know.”

“Are you sure?”

He laughed. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t have let you do what you just did if I wasn’t sure. Would I?”

“I don’t know… some men are pigs.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Look,” he took your face in his hands, “some men are indeed pigs. But I like you. A lot. And I’ve had fantasies a hell of a lot like what we just did together for a damn embarrassing amount of time. About you. That’s all you need to know. Ever since I met you, I’ve been all about you.”

You pulled your lips between your teeth and stared at his chest, unseeing. Giddiness filled your tummy and white noise flooded your ears.

Harry picked up your hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. He watched you closely as he peppered kisses to your skin. “You’re thinking too hard, but I get it.”

“I think too hard about everything.” You mumbled. “Especially when it comes to you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I don’t know but I’ve always thought about you more than I’d like to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re very distracting.”

“Sounds like a compliment to me.” He said, and pecked your nose. “Shall we finish our movies and go to bed?”

Involuntarily, and as if prompted by the suggestion, you yawned. “Probably a good idea.”

Harry smiled, wrapped his arms around your middle and squeezed you tightly to his solid frame. “Let’s do it.”

~

Harry worked late a lot over the next week or so. He hated it mostly because it meant less time with you. Less conscious time, anyway. For the first few nights he’d come home to find you asleep and couldn’t bear the idea of accidentally waking you up, but after sharing a bed with you for so many nights now, it had been a hard drug to quit.

It was late now, well past midnight and you’d probably fallen asleep hours ago. But seeing you curled up and facing the window, sheets bunched up to your chin and face buried in your pillow, he couldn’t help himself.

He quietly stripped out of his clothes, save for his boxers, shut the door behind him and slid into bed beside you. He surrounded you with his warmth - arms around your middle and his face pressed between your shoulder blades. He tugged you backwards until your bodies were flush together, chest to back, and sponged a wet kiss into your shoulder.

You did rouse a little, giving out a soft, sleep-filled squeak. “Hi.”

He smiled, leaving another kiss closer to your neck. “Hi.”

“Wondered when you’d be back.” You said around a content sigh.

“And me.”

You giggled. You took a hand that clasped around your chest and brought it up to your lips. “Tried to stay awake for you but failed.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to.”

He littered more kisses against your skin, because he could just never get enough of you. “Thank you.”

“Pleasure.”

“Now go back to sleep.”

“Yes sir.”

~

“You look different.”

You frowned, meeting your sister’s scrutinous eyes between washing a saucepan clean. You were washing, she was drying, like you always did. You didn’t trust her enough to actually clean the dirty tableware. Sometimes she didn’t properly dry things either, but you’d make the most of what you could.

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno.” She shrugged. “You’ve got a kind of… air about you.”

“Right…”

“Hey,” your dad appeared, nudging your sister’s arm, “maybe she’s got a boyfriend.”

Embarrassed heat filled your body.

“No, that’s not it.” Your sister shook her head. “Anyway, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

“I don’t…” you didn’t know how to finish that.

Perhaps your many nights sharing a bed with Harry had been what she was talking about, but the label of boyfriend/girlfriend definitely hadn’t come up yet. You just liked each other. A lot. Add that to the fact that any night you shared a bed with him you didn’t wake up in cold sweats or choked screaming fits, it wasn’t exactly something you planned to stop doing any time soon.

“Oh my God, don’t overthink it like you do everything else. It’s a compliment. Take it.” She rolled her eyes.

“Aye, don’t be snotty.” Dad swatted your sister’s arm.

“I’m not!”

Your sister was younger than you, and for all eternity most definitely cooler. She was in school and that hadn’t changed into adulthood. It didn’t particularly bother you. Generally you got on very well, she just didn’t have a problem opening her mouth when she had an opinion.

“Anyway, don’t forget family dinner night. Next Friday?” Dad reminded you.

Ah yes. Family dinner night was not here at Dad’s house with just you and your sister. It was at the house with Dad, your sister, and all the housemates. George proclaimed it his favourite time of the month, because Dad, an ex-chef, always cooked. Harry, because of his often awkward shift work, was almost always absent.

“Okay.” You nodded.

After finishing your last dirty dish, you pulled your phone out.

Blackpool Tower

👑 ❌😃

Sometimes a text simply couldn’t be written exclusively in emojis, so you’d come up with a rule whereby if you needed to write one, you’d send a ❌😃 to alert them.

👑 Family dinner night next Friday. Be there or be square 💘

👰🏼 🤯🤩🤯🤩🤯

🌚 🎉🎉🎉

“You’re still doing the emoji thing?” Your sister asked with a narrowed gaze.

“We have another bet running to see who’ll crack first.”

“Right… will everyone come?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“That’s me asking if Harry will be there, by the way.” She said with a smirk, nudging your arm.

If you didn’t know any better you’d be hot under the collar thinking she was onto you. The mention of his name got you flustered anyway, but you did know better. As any sensible woman would, your sister had a little thing for Harry that she’d never shied away from.

“I don’t know.” You repeated, somewhat irritated.

“Well, find out! Do I need to make an effort or not, you know?”

“I mean… he doesn’t usually come. So probably not.”

“Double check. To be safe. Or give me his number.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Bore.” She scoffed, and swished away.

~

Sundays were laundry day. Harry knew this, which is why he’d never do his on the same day. Everyone in the house knew that first thing on a Sunday morning you would head down to the basement with a book and a basket full and sit there until everything had been through the tumble dryer (unless it was delicate in which case you’d air it in your window for the day).

Today, though, Harry travelled from the top of the house to the very bottom and slipped inside the utility room, closing the door behind him before any of the other housemates could hear him.

“What are you doing?” You asked, voice light with laughter.

Harry’s gaze rested on you, full of some kind of infatuation. You were sitting atop the industrial-size tumble dryer in the far corner of the room, back against the wall and knees up, book held against your thighs.

He shrugged. “Wanted to come irritate you a bit.”

“You never irritate me.”

He grinned and put himself in your personal space. He found your bookmark and placed it between the pages, and then took it away, abandoning it. “Are you sure?”

You let him manoeuvre you; pulled you forward a little and spread your knees apart. Your legs fell over the side, resting either side of his hips, and your breathing quickened. He placed one hand on your thigh and the other stroked over your cheek.

“Feel free to interrupt laundry day any time you want.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You laughed at his mock genuine tone and brushed your fingertips against his lips. “You know, my sister has a massive thing for you.”

He stood quietly for a fraction of time, gaze assessing. “I would tease you about it but I just can’t. I kind of already guessed.”

“Did you?”

“Mhm. She’s not exactly subtle.”

“No, she’s not. She asked me for your number.”

“Did you give it to her?”

“What do you think?” You rolled your eyes.

He smirked. “You getting possessive of me?”

“Maybe. But she’s too self-absorbed to realise. She thinks I’m doing it because giving out your number willy nilly is morally wrong. Which it is. But yeah, I also just don’t want her to have it.”

His lips tightened, nose flared, eyes light - batting away a smile. “I think I like this side of you.”

You gave an uncharacteristic grunt, but your eyes never left him. “You look like a frog when you make that face.”

His face neutralised and he sucked in a breath. “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

This visibly delighted you. “Maybe I’ll start calling you Froggy.”

“Too far.” He pinched your waist

You giggled, hands pressed against his chest. Your palms felt warm over his t-shirt and he never wanted you to take them away.

“How long left on your cycle?”

“Er…” your gaze dipped downwards to the screen on the washing machine. “Like, 20 minutes probably.”

“And then it’s going in the tumble dryer?”

“Yes… why?”

“Because,” he pecked your lips once, “I think I know,” he kissed your left cheek, “something we can do,” then your right cheek, “while we wait.”

Your gaze was curious and intense as he started sponging his lips down your front, from neck to chest to stomach. You reclined some, breathing heavy, and he pulled your legs up by the ankle and planted your feet back on top of the dryer.

“Oh,” you spoke, voice caught.

“You okay with this?” He asked hesitantly.

Even though you’d been sleeping side by side something close to 5 nights a week, your little dry humping session last weekend was as far as you’d gone in the sexual intimacy department.

You made a strangled noise. “Christ, yes.”

Grin fully spread across his face, he smoothed his palms up your thighs to your hips and tucked his fingers into the silky waistband of your pyjama bottoms.

“Can we take these off?”

You hummed an affirmed noise, and lifted your arse off the surface. In one smooth pull he had the garment off your legs and over his shoulder, probably in the same vicinity of the book he’d taken off you.

He met your gaze with a lifted brow. “Not a fan of knickers?”

“Not in my jim-jams, no.”

His smile blossomed like daffodils in spring. “That’s either the cutest or sexiest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Can we go with sexy considering what I hope you’re about to do?”

“Sure thing, cutie.”

You squealed a little at the name, but he couldn’t tell if you loved it or hated it. Regardless, he kept a firm grip on your legs and lowered his lips to your knee. In a slow, measured movement, he kissed his way up the inside of your legs with his hot, wet mouth.

Your breath was laboured as you watched him, eyes wide when he met your gaze again but so incredibly keen. To prove it, you pushed a hand through his curls and massaged his scalp, coaxing him forward.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for so fucking long.” He admitted, mouth dragging over the softest part of your thigh.

His hot breath fanned against your waiting lips and you visibly clenched.

“I’ve wanted you to, believe me.” Your voice was but a rasp.

“Yeah?” He sighed happily, left hand moving closer to your centre. He extended his thumb out, “Are you wet for me?” He pulled your lips apart, and the noise he made at the sight of you was practically carnal.

“Harry,” you whimpered, tugging on his hair.

He hummed again, face inching closer to your dripping lips. He licked between you, wetness collecting on his tongue. The taste of you was something better than he could’ve ever imagined and he growled because of it. He gripped your legs tighter, hesitant no more, and buried his face right between your soft thighs.

“Oh, God,” you whined. Your head lolled backwards and both fists found purchase in his beautiful hair, twisting and tugging.

He grunted in response to you, spurred on. He collected as much of your juice as he could, firm stroke after firm stroke of his perfectly capable tongue.

He played with your clit in a way that made you squirm and squeal, eliciting the most delectable little noises out of your hoarse throat. Harry didn’t hold back - he never had in that department. He went for it completely and utterly.

The washing machine launched into rapid spinning, filling the room with wheezing, screaming noises.

“Harry, don’t stop.” You begged, body rigid with desperate tension.

He obeyed your every word. He spread your legs further and further with his digging grip. He burrowed his face into your cunt, tongue plunging inside of you and spading inside your heat like a desperate gardener.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you panted as you lifted your head again to watch him.

His eyes were already on you, dark and hooded and filled with keen lust. His head moved with an eager precision like his mouth did. He wanted you this way. He’d wanted it for so long he couldn’t quite believe he was getting it. You were a goddess, ethereal and perfect.

The washing machine’s cycle reached its peak, vibrating harshly beside the two of you. It was deafening yet the least bit distracting.

Harry pursued his advances on your cunt relentlessly and without breath until your body went rigid and then shuddered. You screamed his name, withholding nothing, any cries drowned out by the washing machine. Your body visibly vibrated like the machine beside you, and eventually your limbs weakened to jelly.

Harry stood straight and helped you sit up again, wrapping his arms around your middle. He tucked your head into his neck and twisted his face into your hair.

“You’re right, that was incredibly sexy.” He mumbled.

He revelled in your returning laughter, the sound light and airy. You showed no shame in clinging onto him, fingers raking through the curls at the back of his neck.

“Maybe you can do it again later.” You suggested, lips sponging against the skin on his neck.

“Any time you like.”

After another minute or so you pulled away, eyes scouring his face. “You’re a mess, sir.” You commented as you wiped your thumb around his shiny mouth.

He made a wordless noise, held your wrist, and took your thumb in his mouth. “I’ll be a mess for you.”

“Perhaps I’ll be a mess for you, too.”

His brows shot up and it made you laugh. “It’s cruel to joke about that.”

“I’m not joking.”

He gave you a challenging look.

“Want me to prove it?” You offered.

Was it even worth the question? “Always.”

You grinned. “Let me put my washing in the dryer and I will.”

He took a step back and bent at the waist, arms extending like he was bowing. “M’lady.”

You hopped down from where you’d been sitting and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Sir.”

~

The kitchen was a hive. And a mess. There was shit everywhere and your anxiety was through the roof just looking at it. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight because any kitchen your dad found himself in nowadays ended up looking like a pig sty but it didn’t settle the tightness in your chest.

He moved around the room with chaotic precision while you trailed after him tidying up any unnecessary mess, and your sister sat at the dining table Rhys and George had brought up from the basement an hour ago, scrolling through her phone.

“What about him?” Your sister flashed her screen to the two of you, the next Tinder profile filling it.

Your dad leaned over and squinted. “His eyes are too far apart.”

“Ugh. Knew you were gonna say that.” She grumbled.

This was a game you played regularly. Your sister would showcase potential Tinder matches either for her or for you (which you always declined to comment on), and your dad would garner his unfiltered opinion. It was probably a big part of the reason you were both still (technically) single. No one was ever good enough. That, and you didn’t have a Tinder account. Or any dating app account, actually.

“Him?” She flashed the next profile to you both.

Cute. But…

Not Harry.

Your inner tormentor smirked.

“What’s his anthem?” Dad knew all the terminologies now for the dating app world. He liked to call Hinge ‘UnHinged’, because that’s what the suitors on there usually were.

“Um… Wonderwall.”

You gagged, and Dad scoffed. “Next.”

You carried on for a little while, joining in when you felt like it but mostly just trying to keep the kitchen at an acceptable level of clean.

Rhys, Abbie and George were upstairs getting themselves ready for dinner as if it was some kind of gala they were about to attend. They did it everytime; dinner with Dad felt like an occasion. Harry wasn’t home and you hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask if he was going to be. He left at such a weird time this morning you couldn’t figure out what shift he was on and how that would affect his ‘home time’.

“Lay the table please, poppet?” Your dad asked of your sister, because he knew it was the only task she’d willingly do.

She leapt to her feet in a dramatic flurry and made for the cutlery draw. “Have we got enough for matching sets?”

“Very unlikely.” You muttered. You hadn’t eaten dinner with matching cutlery since you moved in.

The front door opened, cold air blustering in and mixing with the heat of the kitchen. Harry stepped in, bundled up in a big coat and rucksack slung over one shoulder.

“Hope I’m not late.” He said in a gravelly voice, smile sheepish.

“Harry!” Dad greeted him with complete joy. “Wasn’t expecting you, what a nice surprise.”

Your sister looked flustered all of a sudden. She’d convinced herself he wasn’t coming. Part of you had, too.

“I’ll just change and be back down.”

“Sure, we’ve got a bit of time yet.” Dad waved him away.

You’d pretended to busy yourself, but you watched as he headed for the stairs and caught the subtle wink he gave you.

Ah shit.

“What am I going to do?” Your sister panicked. “I'm a disaster - I look hideous.”

“No you don’t.” You grumbled. She’d never looked hideous in her life.

“Can I borrow some makeup?”

It was easier to just give her what she wanted rather than fighting her on it. “Sure - what do you need?”

She listed off a bunch of makeup items, most of which sounded completely foreign so you were sure you didn’t have them. You’d just give her your entire makeup bag and let her do what she wanted.

You knocked on Harry’s door before you went back down, makeup bag in hand. He opened in just his jeans, a light straight-leg pair with gaping holes at the knees.

“Hey,” he smiled, and rested an arm against the doorframe.

“Hi… I thought you’d be working late?”

He shook his head. “I was supposed to be. Swapped my shift ‘cause I always miss family dinner.”

“I see… well, you’ve successfully panicked my sister.”

“That was my plan all along, actually.”

“Mhm, sure.” You bit away a smirk. You liked this playful side of him a lot. “If you need half an hour to mentally prepare… I’d take it.”

“Noted, thank you.”

You left him to change and made your way back downstairs. Your sister eagerly took your makeup from you and dashed to the bathroom on the first floor.

Neither she nor Harry, or anyone else for that matter, came down until it was time to sit down.

Your dad sat at the head of the table as he always did, spread laid out in front of you in the middle. You sat to your dad’s right on the corner, and your sister to the left. You knew she was going to try and save the seat on her other side for Harry, but George ended up taking it instead, which visibly irritated her. She did have a particular ‘gay man’s best friend’ vibe about her - they flocked to her like sheep. Abbie sat at the other head, Rhys on her left, and then Harry sandwiched between Rhys and you.

He squeezed your thigh under the table, and you tried to pretend like it didn’t have some obscene effect on your intimate places. You lightly kicked his shin and started piling food onto your plate.

Like some kind of mafia father, your dad went around the table and asked all of the housemates for an update on their lives. He liked to do this, and fortunately your housemates liked pleasing him. He was a good landlord, and that showed by the way they gravitated towards him. He probably wouldn’t do this sort of thing if you weren’t living there, but he had a responsibility to them as tenants as well as you, his eldest daughter.

When you were done eating you sat back in your chair and put your hands in your lap. Harry didn’t hesitate to take one in his own and link your fingers. You peeked up at him as subtly as possible, unable to fight the giddy warmth that spread through you. He didn’t meet your gaze for the sake of keeping everyone else out of your business, but he did squeeze your hand, which only made the airy, slightly delirious feeling inside of you that much stronger.

Your sister spent 20 minutes talking about herself without breath, and as self-absorbed as she was, she was harmless, really. Not to mention entertaining. You never laughed as much as you did when she had her mouth open.

“Harry, you should come to these more often.” She said to him, batting her eyelashes.

You were about to walk her and your dad to the car and send them on their way. Harry was trying his absolute hardest to escape.

He cleared his throat. “I probably should, yeah.”

“It was good having an extra nice body.”

You gave her a look, brow raised. She shrugged. “I think it’s home time, no?” You prompted, gripping her arms and nudging her away.

“Fine.” She huffed, and began walking towards the street. “Bye team!”

Most people had already disappeared to their rooms but you had to admire her spirit. Dad was already gone, eager to go to bed.

You were halfway to the car when your sister asked, “So are you gonna tell me or what?”

You met her gaze with another raised brow. “Tell you what, exactly?”

“Mate,” she swatted my arm, “I am not an idiot. I know when I’m not wanted, because it’s not often.” She could not get any more vain if she tried. “I always did wonder what I had to do to get Harry’s attention better, and today I finally figured it out. I need to be you.”

Ah. Not as ignorant as she appears, then.

You pressed your mouth closed, looking away. “Er,”

“Don’t ‘er’ me. I saw that wink he gave you when he got home, but I thought he was just trying to wind me up. And then he sat next to you, not by choice it seemed, but there was barely an inch of space between you and practically a metre between him and Rhys. Then he just didn’t stop looking at you, even though he pretended he wasn’t. Let me tell you, that boy has not learned the art of subtlety.”

She turned to you then, a searing gaze heavy. “Look, I don’t know if you’re aware of it, or if you’re already shaggin’ him and lying to me about it-,”

“-We’re not having sex.” Yet.

“Okay, fine. Whatever. Just do something about it, please. If I can’t have him you should. Don’t let a man that beautiful go to waste. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Good.” She huffed, and then pulled you in for a tight hug. “Fed up of seeing you alone and underselling yourself. You’re hot shit! I know it, and Harry clearly knows it.” She suddenly takes your face in her grasp. “So do something about it.”

~

You appeared in the doorway of Harry’s room around 20 minutes later, fresh-faced and in your PJs. He was reading in bed, having stolen a book out of your cupboard.

“Is he secretly in love with her?” He asked without taking his eyes off the pages, his long finger brushing the spine.

You squinted at the title as you moved closer to him. “Yes. What made you pick that one?”

“Because it’s obviously your favourite.”

“How’d you work that one out?”

“The spine is cracked beyond belief. It’s nearly falling apart.”

“I might’ve bought it from a charity shop.”

He lifted a brow. “Did you?”

“No.”

He put the book aside, focussing all of his attention on you. You’d sat down cross-legged on top of the covers, and you wore a calm yet unreadable expression. There was a hint of something in your eyes. Infatuation, maybe?

“What’s going on?”

You shook your head, smiling. “Nothing. I’m just… happy.”

“Me too.”

You remained quiet for a moment, gazing at one another in a comfortable silence. Eventually, Harry opened his arms in request of your embrace, and you gave it to him without hesitation. You settled against him, head tucked under his chin.

“I like this, Harry. Us.”

“So do I.” He nodded, pressing his lips into your hair. “A lot.”

“You make it easier.”

“Make what easier?” He asked, and then held his breath.

A beat passed. “Life. Sleeping. Consciousness. Cooking. Just… being.”

“That’s a very big compliment.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

When you peered up at him, he lowered his mouth to yours for a slow and tender kiss. It wasn’t abrasive or demanding; it was perfect. Full of an understanding that neither of you expected to find in another person.

“Tell me about your nightmares.”

“I don’t have them when I’m with you.” You admitted, as if he hadn’t already worked it out. When he didn’t respond to you, you reluctantly continued. “They’re about my mum. She died in a car accident a few years ago and I dream about it sometimes.”

Harry’s heart found its way into his mouth. “You were there?”

“No. My sister was. I was with dad - it was a weekend. Me and dad at his work cooking, mum and my sister shopping in town. Were on their way back and someone just ploughed into the side of the car, driver’s side. She died on impact and my sister was in hospital for a week.”

Harry held onto you tighter, his lips against your temple. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“It’s okay…” you swallowed, body tensed in stillness. “I dream about that day a lot. Mostly the part where Dad broke the news to me. Seeing my sister in the hospital plugged in and drugged up. The funeral; the look on Dad’s face. I wake up crying more than screaming, usually.”

He took a deep breath, and he clung to you like you might disappear. “I’m really sorry. Sorry that happened to you and your family, and that you have to relive it most nights. That’s not fair.”

You met his gaze, cupping his cheek. “Ever since we started doing… this, I haven’t had a single one. Not even on the nights we don’t share a bed. I don’t know why, I guess my conscience has decided it’s safe with you. And I do feel safe with you.”

“Then I will stay with you every night to make sure you never have a bad dream again.” He vowed, turning his head enough to kiss your palm. “I like knowing that you feel safe with me. S’a pretty big compliment.”

“I’m full of those when it comes to you.”

His chest swelled, a helpless smile on his face. “Even when you tell me I look like a frog.”

You snorted and hid your face in his chest. “You do, though.”

“Okay, thank you.” He huffed, feigning offence, but he didn’t let you go; didn’t loosen his hold on you.

You talked late into the night until you fell asleep, wrapped around one another and bundled under his bedclothes. Having you so close and being so open gave Harry a sense of clarity. He’d had an attraction to you since the day he met you, but this was turning into something more. Feelings were now coming up to bat, and he had a pretty solid idea of where they were heading.

~

“You are filthy.”

You wiped your brow, meeting Abbie’s gaze with indifference. “I am not letting this garden turn into a jungle again like it did last year.”

“I know, but I’ve never seen you so dirty. You’re the cleanest person I know.”

“Believe me, I’ll be jumping straight in the shower once I’m done.”

It was the warmest day of spring so far, and for once it wasn’t raining, so you’d taken the opportunity the second you had it to get outside and sort the garden out. The winter had turned it into a tangled overgrown mass of green mess, and you’d been desperate to get it sorted.

Abbie had offered to help but had realised very quickly that she was out of her depth, and eventually offered moral support in lieu of the physical kind. You didn’t mind the company - it beat waiting inside for Harry to come home, alone all day.

You chopped away at the forest that had grown, turned the soil over when you found it, and potted some new plants to give it some life. By the time Harry came home your legs were covered in dirt, cuts and fresh bruises, nail beds black, hair full of dead foliage, and just downright sweaty.

Abbie had surrendered to the house to be entertained by Rhys, and George wasn’t home. He was never home much anymore, you were all under the impression he had a boyfriend.

Harry helped you to your feet where you were kneeling in the soil, eyes giving you a thorough once over. “You look…”

“Filthy. Yes, I know.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I like it.”

“Really?”

He followed you as you collected your gardening tools and hid them in the shed tucked against the side of the house. “Absolutely. You’re so clean and put together all the time, it’s kinda nice seeing you a bit roughed up.”

You hummed out a laugh. “Interesting.”

Harry boxed you up against the wall, out of sight of any of your nosey housemates. His hips trapped yours, hands holding your sides at the ribs. Without a hint of hesitation, he pressed his mouth to yours, eagerness overpowering tenderness.

You simply let him, never one to deny the most handsome man you knew a hot and heavy kiss. You enjoyed being wanted by him. Who the fuck wouldn’t?

“I’ll let you go shower.”

“Okay.” You murmured, delirious.

He pulled away, giving your hip one last squeeze before he vanished into the house. You spent five more minutes in the garden making sure you’d tidied up after yourself, and took some pictures to send to your dad.

Your shower was longer than you’d have liked thanks to the state of you, and in turn it took you longer to clean the bathroom down than usual. You were starving by the time you got back to the top floor.

Harry was at his desk when you slipped inside his room, browsing something on his laptop.

His room and yours were polar opposites of one another. Where you hid all your belongings, made your bed and kept things as minimal as possible, Harry had more shit than necessary. A bulging wardrobe, unmade bed, things everywhere. He was a man with stuff, and lots of it. Sometimes it made you itch. But he wasn’t dirty in any capacity. It smelled of fresh linen and clean air all the time.

“Do you feel better?” He asked, closing the lid on his laptop again.

“Mm. Loads better.” You gave him a warm smile as you perched on the edge of his bed.

He rolled over to you but abandoned the chair halfway to stand up. Then he crawled over you, forcing you to lie backwards and caged you against the bed.

“You smell amazing.” He said with a voice like gravel.

You ran a hand down his front and slipped it under his t-shirt, trailing your fingertips over his chest. “Thank you,”

He lowered onto his forearm, face an inch from yours and groin against your pelvis. You inhaled sharply, noticing the very obvious stiffness coming from Harry’s midsection. His hand smoothed the length of your side, down your thigh to your knee and then back up again to your arse.

He met your mouth with a kiss, deep and hungry. Dizzying. He led and he was all over you, tongue devouring yours.

“It was a lot harder than it should’ve been to not follow you into the shower.” He admitted.

You let out a soft whine and fisted his t-shirt, pulling him flush against your chest. You wanted to feel the weight of him on you. “You should’ve.”

He returned that with a growl, and his hand on your arse gripped tighter. Your name tumbled off his lips in a husky plea, “I want you so fuckin’ bad.”

Hooking your legs around his hips and pushing his centre against yours, you gave him the silent go-ahead. You looped your arms around his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair.

“I’m right here, and you can have me.”

Something inside Harry snapped. Any reservations about your desire for him vanished. His kisses became punishing and carnal. His hands on you a little rougher than before, than ever. Possessive.

You helped him out of his top and in turn he helped you out of yours. You scooched backwards up the bed as he drank you in. It wasn’t lost on you that this was the first time he’d seen your top half naked. Somehow, amongst all the nights of bed-sharing, you’d never been fully naked.

His eyes were dark, hooded. He looked at you like you were his last meal, and honestly you lived for it. You wanted to die under that gaze.

“You’re so sexy.”

You bit away a timid, flustered smile. Bashfulness wasn’t sexy.

He stalked you like a wild cat as you lay back. His mouth and hands descended on you again, searching and exploring every inch of you, searing hot and wet kisses into your skin.

His hands slipped into your pyjama bottoms, feeling around your arse again before he tugged them down your legs, leaving you completely stark under his burning gaze. A strangled moan fell out of him while he regarded your naked form, hands smoothing and squeezing your hips, your waist, your boobs.

“You’re so fucking soft.” He said the words like praise.

You laid your hands on his as they travelled over you, and he pushed his mouth back to yours in that same eager dance as before. He ground himself against you, hard as a rock underneath his joggers, and it was doing all sorts to your core. Your heartbeat fell down and down again to your middle, slick heat flourishing between your legs.

“Please, Harry,” you begged him, pushing his hand down.

“What do you need?” He asked, a little cruelly, as if he didn’t know exactly what you needed.

“Touch me.”

The man gargled at you. He was fucking strangled. He traced between your thighs delicately to the point it tickled, and swiped a finger easily in a stripe up your folds, wetness collecting.

“Like that?”

“Yes.” You wriggled under him, desperate for more. “More.”

He played with your clit teasingly, enjoying the way you squirmed. “More?” He asked as he slid a finger into your waiting heat.

A small cry left you. It wasn’t enough and he knew it. “More.”

“Bossy, aren’t you?”

You whined. Now you were the one being carnal. You gripped his head tightly and kept your mouth to his, tongue abrasive and lashing.

While he wound you up in the most irritating way, you found your own ways to move him on. Your feet dug into the backs of his thighs and pushed downwards at an attempt to budge his joggers off. You didn’t want to wait anymore. You wanted him in all his solid glory, right now.

“Are you trying to take my bottoms off with your feet?”

“Yes.” You grunted.

“Oh,” he gave you a dark laugh as his kisses trailed back down your front, “that’s gonna cost you.”

He licked around your belly button, the warmth of his hands vanishing from your body to push his joggers down. He gave your cunt the shortest, most mind-blowing piece of attention with his mouth, dragging noises out of you that you weren’t even aware you could make. Then he turned you over without warning, on your front, and tugged your arse up to rest against his crotch.

You gasped, excited by the somewhat aggressive nature he’d taken on. Your Harry - soft and gentle as they got - man-handling you. You peered at him over your shoulder as he produced a square foil wrapper from somewhere and ripped it open with his teeth. He watched you watching him as he rolled it down his shaft, drawing your attention to it - visually, anyway - for the first time. You had to swallow the lump in your throat.

“This what you wanted, darlin’?” He asked as he smoothed his hand over your arse, but his gaze never left you. “You want me to fill you up with my cock?”

“God yes.” You said without a hint of a waver.

“You want it like this?” He lined himself up, fisting himself at the base, and glided the head of him through your wet, parted, waiting folds.

“Yes.” You whimpered. “Please. Please please please.”

He made that noise again, his large fist grabbing your hip as he hovered at your entrance, and then he thrust himself inside you.

A ripping, searing pain had you wanting to scream so loudly you had to shove your face into the mattress to muffle it. An ache blossomed in place of the initial pain, one that was all too familiar and yet quite unfamiliar. It had been absent, like a friend who lived too far away. Now it homed itself inside of you like it belonged there. Perhaps it did, and the only way to quell it was to entertain it.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you feel good.” He hissed, his hands squeezing your hips and your bum in turn.

Harry pulled out, enough that only his head remained inside you, and then he gave another powerful thrust until he completely filled you. “So fucking good, my God.”

He started moving, in steady, sharp movements. He didn’t want slow. Hell, you didn’t want slow. You wanted fast and hot and sweaty, and that’s exactly what he gave you.

Harry started fucking into you so viciously you could feel it in every part of your body, from the jiggle of your tits to the shake of your arse to the rock of your hips. Oh, and the stretch of his cock as he buried deeper and deeper inside you. Every part of your body was aflame with need, a desire, a craving to be fucked into oblivion.

His hands were on your hips again, fingertips digging into your skin. He rocked you back and forth in time with his thrusts, not that you needed him to. You were doing that all on your own.

He grunted and hissed through every single powerful drive of his cock into your cunt, your name tumbling out of his mouth over and over again.

“Harry,” you whimpered, “harder.”

He growled and obeyed, pistoning inside of you.

“Yes, oh fuck yes.” You cried, head burrowing again.

You felt him on you, all over you then, his chest against your back, lips kissing your shoulders and his arms with a vice grip around your middle. His skin was tacky, as was yours. You were surrounded by a cloud of packed heat, like a humid summer day.

“You are…” Harry began to say, panting in your ear, and his head shook against you, “fuck, I can’t even think straight.”

You moaned, lifting up and twisting your head in search of him. He caught your chin and brought your lips to his in another deep, claiming kiss. You wanted every kiss to be like that from then on - owning, possessing, asserting. You were his and you wanted him to know it.

He gave another round of punishing thrusts before he made a winded noise, “Turn over,” he pleaded, “I want to see your face.”

A whimper fell out of your mouth when his thickness disappeared from inside you, and he helped you onto your back before he got straight back in there. He was low over you, chest on your chest, hand on the back of your thigh, and his eyes roamed your face while it contorted with pleasure.

He hooked your leg over his hip and went harder. Harder, faster, harder, faster. Your head lolled back and a string of curse words fell out of your mouth. His lips danced across your chest and you tangled your fingers in his hair to keep him there. There was nothing better than being worshipped by a mouth. Especially Harry’s mouth.

He licked and sucked over your skin until your boobs and sternum were littered with little purple spots of lust, and honestly you didn’t care. You wanted them all over you. You wanted yours all over him.

His hips never stopped moving - pushing, pushing, pushing you towards a beautiful, glorious high like a high-speed train ploughing towards a dangerous cliff edge. God, you wanted that edge and you wanted it now. You wanted to be flung off it whilst securely attached to the man currently pushing you there.

You pulled Harry’s mouth back to yours, holding your body to him as you clenched, milking him towards his end and yours. You needed it. Your head was about to explode with rampant thoughts and you needed to wash them away.

“Fuck, Harry,” you whispered, neck and shoulders spiked with heat. It radiated off you.

“I know.” He groused and bit your lower lip. “I’m fucking close. So fucking close, and I’m gonna blow if you keep doing that.”

“Please do it,” you begged, clenching again to feel his growl in your mouth, “come, Harry.”

And boy did he fucking come.

His body wracked with a shudder, movements ceasing as you wrapped yourself tightly around him. His muscles rippled beneath your fingertips while he came, oblivious to your own masterful undoing.

You calmed together, lips moving in tender kisses until your breath was caught again and your limbs were sore. You deflated when Harry abandoned you to clean himself up, and you dipped into your bedroom to do the same when you found the strength.

When he came back you snuggled up to him in his bed, between his legs with your head on his chest. His lips grazed through your hair, breathing light and content.

“I am… fucking obsessed with you.” He mumbled.

You traced your fingers over the hair and the swallows on his chest, a warmth filling you, like an acceptance. Being wanted hadn’t mattered to you until now. Until Harry.

“I… am also quite infatuated with you. And I have been for some time. Just… quietly.”

“You been sniffin’ my bed sheets while I’m at work?”

You giggled and nuzzled closer to him. “No. Not recently, anyway.”

“Not recently?”

“I’ve never sniffed your bed sheets, Harry.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“I’m weird, but I’m not that weird.”

“But you’ve been infatuated with me for ages.”

“Not enough to go into your room and sniff your bed sheets.”

“Did you do anything a bit weird?”

“No.”

“Really? Not even… a little… you know?”

You gave him a bewildered look, and he waggled his eyebrows at you.

Haha. You totally did that, you creep.

“Maybe.” You murmured, hiding your face again.

He chuckled and held onto you tightly. “I did, too. Feeling’s always been mutual, darlin’.”

You heaved a content sigh. “I’m glad it was. I really do like this. Us.”

“Me too.”

~

Harry had been living life with a permanent spring in his step. He had you, living in the same house and sharing a bed, cooking at dinner time, shagging at night time, and just generally being wonderful, fantastic, gorgeous, brilliant you.

Tonight you were at your dad’s house with your sister so he was cooking alone, but George was in the living room watching one of those daft culinary competition programs on Channel 4, the commentary filtering out with an occasional expletive. Abbie and Rhys were out but would likely be home soon. You’d be back eventually, too, and he liked knowing that nowadays you came home to him.

Rhys and Abbie came back first. Harry had decided to join George in the living room, too intrigued by the shouty drama on Come Dine With Me to ignore it.

Abbie gasped at the TV. “This is the one!” She squealed.

“What one?” Rhys demanded. “Oh, yes!”

“What am I missing?” Harry asked, a little bewildered.

George shushed everyone with a finger to his lips. “I’ve been talking him through it but I want him to see.” He flailed a hand in the couple’s direction.

All four pairs of eyes glued to the TV, a vetted interest in the argument unfolding. The contestants from that week’s episodes were gathering in the final host's living room, bank notes spread in a circle atop a silver tray and holding up a scroll wrapped in red ribbon.

The front door of the house opened again, and in you waltzed, a baffled look on your face. Very rarely did you come home to find everyone in the living room.

Abbie squeaked your name, begging you to join before it kicked off on the telly. “Come on, quick.” She patted the space between her and Harry, conveniently.

His eyes were no longer interested in the TV drama, only in you.

“In fourth place is… me.”

“Ah,” you said in recognition of the scene on the telly as you sat down. Your arm brushed against Harry’s as you tucked your right foot under your left thigh, and caught yourself before you settled into his side like you normally would.

A chorus of patronising oohs filled the room from the contestants on the screen. The host was shaking his head.

“Wait, is this the-,”

“You won, Jane.”

Barking laughter filled the room from the housemates, including Harry, but the host didn’t stop there.

“Dear Lord, what a sad little life, Jane.”

“You’ve got that on a T-shirt!” Harry swatted George’s arm.

“Damn right I do.” He grinned. “Cultural icon.”

“You, or the bloke having an aneurysm?”

“Both.”

“... grace of a reversing dump truck.”

More squeals filled the room, as if the entire scene hadn’t been a meme for years now.

Abbie patted your shoulder. “Did you see the video of Penn Badgley doing this?”

“Obviously.”

“Wait, I wanna see.” Rhys frowned.

Episode forgotten, Abbie found the clip on her phone and showed it to everyone.

“Oh my God, I think I’m going to hear it in that voice forever now.” George muttered, a wistful look in his eyes.

“Shall we watch a movie or something?” Abbie suggested, a hopeful look in her eye. “We never do anything all together… it would be nice.”

“I’m up for that.” Rhys grinned, because why would he ever turn down one of his girlfriend’s ideas?

“Yeah, me too.” George nodded.

All eyes turned to you and Harry. You couldn’t very well say no now, it would look odd. Especially if you both did, which is what you both wanted to do. There were two perfectly good beds upstairs, one of which needed to be destroyed. That wasn’t very well going to happen if you both sat on the couch and watched a film with your housemates.

“Yeah, sure.” You finally said, because you hated the way everyone was looking at you.

“Go for it.” Harry managed, much worse at hiding his disapproval than you were.

“How are we going to decide, then? ‘Cause I don’t really watch the horror films you two are into,” George pointed between Abbie and Rhys, “and Harry probably only watches underground indie movies or something.”

Harry had no idea what gave him that impression, but the laugh that came out of your mouth - hearty, loud and delighted - was worth the assumption.

“Why don’t we all write a movie name down on a piece of paper that we’ll all like - a comedy or something - and do a raffle.”

“Okay, but who’s choosing?”

Harry rolled his eyes and waited for the inevitable to happen. George and Abbie fought for five minutes, both arguing that one of them should choose, and then the decision was given to you as the honorary house mediator. Everyone wrote their choices down on a scrap of paper and dropped them all into one of Rhys’s beanies. Then you closed your eyes, body screaming reluctance at having to be the decision-maker, and plucked a folded square out.

Your mouth lifted at the corners. “Shrek 2.”

Snacks were brought in, beers were shared out, and someone pressed play on the film where it had been queued up.

“Wait!” George screamed.

You all looked at him, bewildered by his dramatics. He’d even stood up.

“What?” Rhys gave him a baffled look.

“I wanna sit in the armchair.” George pointed to the very one Rhys sat in. “I don’t wanna sit in a couple sandwich. A third wheel is bad enough, but a fifth wheel is a disaster.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, laughter nervous and the ultimate giveaway.

“Oh fuck off if you two think we don’t all know you’re a thing.”

Your body tensed. Harry could feel it, the way you went from soft to rigid in a split second. “What?”

“We’ve known for ages.” Abbie said with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, like, the second Harry moved in.” George rolled his eyes.

“But we haven’t been-,”

“-Maybe not the whole time, but definitely recently. I can hear the floorboards creak, you know.” George gave you an accusatory glance. Curse him living directly beneath you. “Amongst other things.”

Harry wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or whether he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. His cheeks and the tips of his ears had turned pink, and you looked like you were in shock. “Right…”

“I am slightly offended that you didn’t want us to know.” Rhys folded his arms. “What did you think was gonna happen?”

He had a point. What did you think was going to happen? Mild ribbing and inappropriate jokes? It wasn’t exactly any of their business what the two of you were doing on the top floor, but that didn’t mean you’d needed to hide everything from them. Why had you stopped yourselves from being affectionate when around them? They were your friends. You all had inside jokes and a group chat and emoji code names. They were like a second family in a way. Even though you all enjoyed your own company, you liked each other too.

“I think… for a while we didn’t really know what was happening.” Harry finally spoke, twisting in his place. “We just started hanging out and it kinda grew from there.”

“I called this on day one, by the way.” George said smugly.

“It’s true, he did.” Abbie nodded, still smiling. “Two good-looking people at the top of the house? Recipe for heaven.”

“We’re happy it finally happened. Just… don’t hide shit like that from us. We’re all friends.” George was back to scowling.

“Friends.” Rhys cooed, like Jay from The Inbetweeners.

“Anyway, now that’s all out there, can we start the film please? Or it’s gonna be my bedtime.” Abbie flailed her hand around.

The movie started, everyone settled into their places, and you managed to find a comfortable position against Harry’s side.

Even though you chatted along with conversations and laughed at the telly, Harry knew something was off. You were still tense, and you didn’t touch him like you normally would. He wanted you in his arms, not pushed awkwardly against his side. He wasn’t sure if it was because you were uncomfortable displaying affection in front of other people, but whatever it was he wanted to make it go away.

He shifted at one point in an attempt to wrap an arm around your middle, but instead you moved further away. That utterly terrified him.

As the movie credits rolled, everyone started to move, ready to get to bed for the night. Except you.

“Guys,” You said, quiet as a mouse, but everyone heard you. Because you never stopped anyone for anything, “can we all have a chat?”

Dread nestled itself into Harry’s stomach. A chat? About what? Everyone? Why did everyone have to be present? What was going on?

The housemates sat back down, if a little tentatively, gazes wary. You finally gave Harry your attention, if only fleetingly with a worried smile.

“Are you alright?” Abbie asked and pulled your hand into hers.

Harry leaned forwards.

“You’ll all be getting an email tomorrow, but I wanted to tell you in person.” You licked your lips, stare heavy on the stone floor of the living room. “Dad is selling the house.”

~

A little piece of your heart broke that evening when your dad told you his plans to sell. It was a place that you had such an odd relationship with, because while it cost a lot of money and caused a lot of financial problems, it also brought you a family you never asked for and a man you never dreamed of having.

You knew your dad would try and hold onto it as long as he possibly could because it had become your home, and he’d been in bits over dinner as he broke the news. He cried, so you cried, and then your sister cried, too. Everyone had been a mess.

“What?” George said, dumbfounded. Hell, everyone was dumbfounded.

“It’s the last thing he wanted to do, but it’s kind of burning a hole in his pocket and we can’t afford it anymore. Between the leaking second floor and dodgy plumbing there’s also woodworm and stone repairs and all sorts of other crap I don’t want to bore you with.”

“You found this out today?” Abbie asked, bottom lip trembling.

“Yeah, an hour or so ago. I’m really sorry, guys.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Rhys frowned.

Abbie crawled across the small gap between her and you and wrapped her arms around you. “We get it. It’s old, it’s a bit rickety and it needs a lot of TLC. We all know your dad gave it all the care he could afford and it’s okay that he can’t afford it anymore.”

“How long do we have to find new places?” George asked, biting his lip.

“As long as it takes to sell. Given the condition of the place it could be fuckin’ ages.” You managed a laugh.

“If your dad needs us to do anything, he just needs to let us know. And we’ll make sure it’s tidy as fuck for viewings and shit.”

“Thanks, Rhys.”

The housemates starting shifting again, collecting up their bits and leaving with softly spoken good nights. You still didn’t move, and neither did Harry. After a quiet minute or so, he slipped his hand into yours and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“What are you thinking?” He asked in a gravelly whisper.

You took a deep breath, nibbling away at your lower lip. “That I’m scared.”

“Scared?”

“Mhm.”

“Scared about what?”

You turned to face him, cataloguing every crease of worry on his handsome face. “Us. What this means for us.”

He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. “What do you think it means for us?”

“Well, I don’t know. I’m scared it means the end, when I don’t want it to. I’m scared that what we’ve been doing is just… convenient? And now that we have to leave it won’t be so convenient anymore and it will be over.”

“You don’t want it to be over.” It wasn’t a question.

“No. Not even a little bit. I… I don’t want a night without you ever again. I can sleep with you around. I can breathe. I need to breathe, and I can’t do that without you. And part of me hates that I need you, but I do, and the rest of me that doesn’t hate it tells me to fuck everything to the wind. Because it’s not just need, it’s also a want. I just want you around, like you have been. Presence is such a funny thing when it comes from different people, but yours… I like yours. A lot.”

Harry spoke your name in a low voice, gaze on your mouth as he smoothed his thumb across your lower lip, “I don’t want it to be over, either.” He meets your gaze again, cool, calm and collected. “I really hoped it wouldn’t be at any stage ever, least not because we have to leave the house and find another one. I’ve been living with you for three fucking years and I also don’t want to have to spend a night where you don’t live with me. Hell, it’s not even a fucking option. I know you love this place because it’s your family’s, but I don’t care where we live as long as we do it together. I’ve been looking at other places since the day I moved in, and the only reason I haven’t bothered to leave is because you kept me here, whether you meant to or not. And now we have to leave, and I’m sure as shit gonna take you with me, because I can’t live without you.”

You stared at him for a moment, and then launched into his arms, tackling him into the sofa. You peppered his face with kisses until he caught your lips and held you there, happy in the knowledge that you needed each other and that was absolutely fucking okay.

“You’re special to a lot of people, but especially to me.” Harry mumbled into your lips. “I’m selfish enough to not let you go.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Good.”

You remained in the lounge for a little while longer, wrapped up in one another, until movement began upstairs and you decided it was probably time to head upstairs to bed. Before you made it to the stairs, Rhys and George appeared in front of you. Rhys looked apprehensive and George looked irritated he’d been dragged out of his room again.

“What’s going on?” You asked, cocking your head.

“Abbie’s in the loo so I’m gonna make this real quick before she comes back.” Rhys threw a wary glance over his shoulder. “I need your help.”

~

Every morning was the same.

This week it had been, anyway. You woke up with the sunrise, wrapped in Harry’s arms, and you listened to his heartbeat and his unconscious breathing for a blissful twenty minutes before his alarm went off. Then he’d fall out of bed with a reluctant yawn, mooch his way around the room and disappear into the bathroom to get ready for work.

Upon reappearing he’d head to the kitchen to make a coffee and leave a cup of tea on your bedside table, then a kiss on your lips, and then you’d watch the man who defined ‘sex on legs’ leave your apartment from the comfiest spot in the bedroom.

Today was the same, but different. He wasn’t going to work today, and neither were you. It meant longer in bed, with enough time for sexy shenanigans, then he’d make for the bathroom, bring you tea afterwards and breakfast.

You spent the day in bed, right up until 5 o’clock when you had to get up and go out to give your keys back.

Yes, your dad had managed to sell the house. It had taken a while, but it got there. The new owners were moving in tomorrow, and you’d all arranged to meet your dad and your sister there to do a final ‘handover’.

George had moved into a studio flat in the centre of town but spent most of his nights at his boyfriend’s place. Rhys and Abbie had finally bought that house they always wanted, out of town but easy to travel into. And you and Harry also had your own place, still renting and in the city, but it was yours together, and that was all you wanted.

“Are you nervous?” Harry asked as you walked up to the front of old Blackpool Tower.

“I’m not the one that needs to be nervous.” You shrugged, even if you had been the one to help Rhys with most of the planning.

He’d been a lot of work over the past few weeks. After he initially asked for your help he spent so long searching for the damn jewellery he forgot about the rest of it. You had reminded him on many occasions that it didn’t need a big song and dance, but he insisted, because he wanted it in the house you’d all shared with her favourite people to witness it.

The garden was lit up in the early evening with fairy lights and candles. George, your sister and your dad were already at the far end waiting for Rhys and Abbie to arrive. You gave over your keys - dad had the house professionally cleaned even though you had offered, because it was too big a task for one person.

Blackpool Illuminations

Rhys We’re nearly there…

Yes, Rhys had really named the group chat for the planning committee ‘Blackpool Illuminations’.

You stood next to your sister who wrapped herself around your middle, and Harry kept hold of your free hand.

“I hope she says no.” Your sister said, and Harry snorted. “Just for a laugh.”

“I don’t think Abbie has it in her to say no to Rhys.” You mused.

Five minutes later the couple in question turned up. Abbie had no idea what was going on, obviously. She’d been told they were going for dinner and then for a walk. The walk was always supposed to end here, at the old house.

Abbie gasped at the sight before her, hands on her mouth as she moved through the garden. “What’s going on?”

Behind her, Rhys swiftly dropped to one knee and presented the ring he’d spent months agonising over. “Abbie,”

You all watched and listened as Rhys spent five minutes talking about how perfect his girl was for him. It was very typical Rhys - overboard and unnecessarily long. Most things maybe could’ve been kept for his wedding vows.

Just as your sister was about to explode from restlessness, Rhys finally asked, “Will you marry me?”

“I would’ve said yes five minutes ago.” Abbie giggled, nodding, and held her left hand out.

George and your sister started hollering, your dad was pretending not to cry, and you fell into Harry’s hold again, watching the happy couple with a warm smile.

“I hope to God they don’t ask me to help plan the actual wedding.”

Harry chuckled and pressed his lips into your temple. “I’ll make sure they don’t.”

Your sister presented herself in front of you with an assured look on her face. “When are you two getting engaged, then?”

Harry choked behind you, and you gave your sister a bewildered look. “Reel it in, please.”

“What?” She shrugged. “Being in love suits you. A wedding would really suit you.”

“A wedding isn’t something you arrange for an aesthetic, sis.” You reminded her.

“Speak for yourself, but I do recommend heavily considering it.”

After she turned away, Harry lowered his mouth to the shell of your ear. “I wouldn’t mind marrying you.”

You tightened his arms around you. “One day.” You said with a kiss to his palm.

His smile imprinted on your cheek. “One day.”

~.~.~.~.~

Thank you so v much for reading if you make it this far. It’s a long one, I know. The longest one shot I’ve actually ever done. Much love to you <3

[smuttyelectricwheelchair]

luz de mis ojos

summary - - - just a oneshot of sweet domestic life . . . ooc!miguel x chubby!male!reader (cock and balls)

content warnings - - - blindsided by horny miguel . . thats about it !

wc - - - 605 (lil baby)

miguel loves you very, very much, and he almost never lets you leave your home of nueva york or barely even your shared apartment. you've gotten used to it by now, and are comfortable in the penthouse of one of the tallest buildings in the city, as you've made the whole place much more cozy. on one shady evening, when the moon is hanging low in the sky and the horizon is a sweet shade of dusty blue, you're trying to figure out where you put the red measuring spoons for your latest chicken-preparing adventure. you hear a click after a beep on the other side of the kitchen wall, and you know it's not the housekeeper, because the housekeeper doesn't groan, grunt and moan every time she steps foot in the door.

"sweetface, ohhh, my sweetface," you can hear the tension in his voice and the scowl on his face, "what did i ever do to desrve the things these kids make me put up w-" he stops. "what smells so damn good?"

you smile and reach even harder into the top shelf of your highest cabinet and almost fall off your stepstool, when suddenly you feel two huge arms wrap around you and hold you tight. even though you're a bigger guy, you always loved how easily miguel could snake his way onto you.

"hey, honey!" you exclaim, "guess what? i brushed up on some spanish today!" you turn to face miguel and hug him around his oh-so stiff neck. he relaxes, but only a little.

"really, mi tesoro? then what if i told you to quítate los pantalones y déjame saborearte, huh?" he grins at his own stupid joke and looks up at you with a smidge of beady redness in his eyes.

"okay, well, i understand 'pants', and i understand that look on your face," you sigh exhaperatedly. "what did they do to you this time, mig?" you let go of his neck and move to loosen his almost desperate grip on your waist when you're abruptly lifted into the air and slung over miguel's shoulder.

"hey, hey, hey! just what the hell do you think you're doing, miggy!?" your lover gently takes and tosses you onto his and your bed, making sure not to hit your head on the headboard. "miguel o'hara! what is your pr-"

"shut the fuck up, luz de mis ojos. please, please-" he kneels on the bed and crawls slowly toward you, placing one of his rough, taloned hands on your hip and shifting a claw underneath your waistband. "i need you so bad right now, please." miguel drags his gaze over your body and meets your eyes, stopping his movements to wait for a response. you're less than surprised, and honestly a little turned on.

"well," you start, "promise me you'll tell me about your day over dinner.." you lean forward and hook your index finger on the collar of the crewneck he always wears in public, pulling him closer, "and i'll let you do whatever you want to me, querido." miguel's irises set ablaze a fiery crimson. he moves at the speed of light on top of you, reaching his cheek to meet yours, and to whisper in your ear.

"prometo."

miguel rips a clean line down the side of your boxers, making you shiver at the sudden air chill. in a quick and precise set of actions, o'hara yanks down your him-themed underwear, lifts your tank top off your body and leans up and back to rest on his knees in-bewtween your legs, admiring the view only he gets to soak up.. only him.

you see him working it out in his head-

what he's going to do to you.

[dancingdub]

the housekeeper pt 2

Pretty smutty, but I wanted to try and get more of a storyline going

18+ ONLY 2.1k words

Ever since you left Emily’s, you couldn’t stop thinking about her. How she had her hands on you, her perfect lips and skin glistening with sweat while she was fucking you. It was a slight distraction throughout your next work week. Another thing you couldn't seem to shake. Emily hadn’t reached out at all. You’ve checked your email multiple times a day and still, nothing. You figured it was a one time thing because she probably would’ve gotten in touch right?

It was a Friday, and you were just finishing up your last client for the week. You knew the night would consist of a “Friends'' marathon and a bottle of wine to yourself. You got in the car and began driving back to your apartment. You couldn’t help but dread another night alone. You could’ve so easily just drove to Emily's place. Maybe it was me? Maybe she was just looking for a quickie? You couldn’t help but let your mind wander the possibilities of never seeing her again, but couldn’t seem to wrap your head around it.

Once you finally arrived home, you went and took a shower and then sat at the couch with your bottle of red wine. Wine glass filled, you laid back and enjoyed the show. It was a show you've seen numerous times but it never got old. It was something light and you didn’t have to focus. It was kinda hard to focus anyway because you couldn’t stop thinking about Emily. 9 PM rolled around, the bottle of wine was finished and you were dozing off. It was a long day so you needed some recovery time anyway, why not an early night? That's when your phone went off. To your surprise, it was an email from Emily. She asked if you could clean tomorrow and she would pay extra. Was it going to be the same as last time? What did she want out of this besides cleaning? Was it just for a fuck? your mind couldn’t stop thinking about all the possibilities. you knew you were getting too old for the one time thing. you just wanted someone who was yours. But you put all that aside and emailed Emily back. you just wrote that you would come tomorrow morning like last time. she emailed back quickly with a “thank you” and you left it at that.

it was just work, it’ll be fine.

you continued to doze off on the couch after your long day, thinking about all the outcomes of going over Emily’s tomorrow. she was lucky because you usually didn’t work on the weekends anyway.

your alarm went off at 8am and you jumped right out of bed. you immediately got in the shower. Once you were out, you picked out a nice set of matching underwear just in case, but put in your regular cleaning clothes. you gathered all your supplies and got in the car to head there, it was almost 10am.

you sat in the car for a minute, the nerves really started to build up. you couldn’t help but be a little excited to see the beautiful woman. you felt the ache between your legs while remembering what happened last time you came to her place. you took a deep breath and then got out of the car, supplies in hand, and headed to her door. Once again, you didn’t have to knock before she opened the door with a smile.

“hi y/n, please come in.” you entered her apartment, memories flooding back. you couldn’t help but notice a small bulge in her pants.

“I'm glad you were able to come over again, this place is a mess and I have no desire to clean.”

“oh it’s no problem Emily.” your voice trembled as you glanced down at the bulge again. she noticed and bit her bottom lip with a smirk.

“Well, I'll leave you to it then. I just have to make a couple stops and I'll be back to pay you.” you couldn’t even speak, all you could do was nod and she smiled and walked out. your mind started racing as you scrambled to get started. Was she really wearing a strap? Was she going to see someone else before she came back here? you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous if she was going to see another woman, but you had a job to do. so you put your headphones in and got started.

After about an hour of rushed scrubbing you finally slowed down. you were almost done and didn’t want to seem in a hurry just in case she came back soon. you did want to see what her intentions were. did she even want to fuck again? you couldn’t help but wonder if it was just a one time thing. but then why would she invite you back?

A few moments later after letting the floor dry, you heard the door open this time. you remember to listen on low volume so she couldn’t sneak up on you again. though, you did pretend you didn’t hear her come in. you were facing away from the door, so you couldn’t see her approaching you. you soon felt her grab your waist with her hands and press against you from behind. you felt the bulge against your ass. you felt the butterflies in your stomach travel down to your pussy.

Emily put her mouth to your ear. “I love what you’ve done with the place y/n.” she nipped your ear sending shivers down your spine. You froze, unsure of what to do but you didn’t want to ruin the moment. That's when Emily turned you around to face her, noses just barely touching. You decided to make the first move, leaning in to press a soft kiss on her lips. She immediately kissed you back. It was soft at first, but it became rough and needy very quickly. Emily had you pressed against the wall beside the kitchen, all you could feel was the pressure of the strap on your pelvic bone. Emily slowly backed away, separating your lips for a moment before guiding you by your hips to her freshly cleaned bedroom.

Emily pushed you back so you’d fall on her bed. She gave you a look and with a desperate nod she continued. She climbed on top of you, kissing your neck and sucking softly before sinking her teeth into you. You moaned quietly and she licked over the bite before grabbing your shirt and ripping it over your head. Emily paused to admire the red lace that was cupping your breasts. she smirked and pulled your pants off, throwing them on the floor.

“I almost couldn’t wait to get you back here. I’ve wanted to fuck you all damn week.”

“Please,” was all you could say before Emily went down on you. She licked your crease over your red lace panties making you squirm. she began to pull them off your hips, throwing them in the pile of clothes on the floor. she made her way back down to your pussy, licking your folds and toying your clit. you couldn’t hold in your moans, her mouth felt so good.

“Are you ready?” she asked with a smirk.

“Yes, please fuck me.” Just the way she looked at you made you wet. She pushed your knees back, spreading your legs wide. She grabbed the base of her cock, rubbing it through your folds. You moaned as it ran over your clit and down to your entrance. She slowly began to enter you, your pussy stretching over her cock. She paused before she forced it in, a gasp leaving you.

“Oh fuck, its so big.” she was thrusting slowly, getting you warmed up. You couldn’t believe how good she looked fucking you.

“What do you want, baby?” she asked, still pumping in and out of you slowly.

“Harder please.” she took a moment to adjust before pumping into you hard, your hips meeting.

“It's so deep, oh my god.” she smirked as she watched your face scrunch up, grasping the sheets in your fists.

She set a fast pace, fucking you hard and deep. Whines and moans left your lips as she kept pumping in and out of you. She placed her thumb on your clit, moving in fast circles. Your legs began to shake as she reached for your neck. She wrapped her hand around your throat as she fucked you hard.

“Oh yes! Right there.” she did as you said, keeping up the pace. Your legs began to shake,crumbling beneath her. She slowed and watched you shake as you came down from your high.

“Fuck.” you still weren’t in control of your legs.

“Do you think you can go again for me baby?”

“ I can try.”

“That's my girl.” without warning she lifted you up and flipped you on your stomach, putting you on your knees. She rubbed the cock across your folds quickly, sending a shock through your body. She forced herself inside, only waiting a moment before she started pumping into you again.

“Oh god.” she set a relentless pace, railing you. Your face was buried in the pillow, muffled cries emerging from you. She kissed your back before she began to nip and suck on your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine.

“ I need you to come again for me baby.” the force of her fucking you was hitting your sensative clit just the right way. You went over the edge. Your legs collapsed under you making you flat on the bed. Emily moved with you to finish you off. Thrusting slowly until your pussy stopped clenching around her cock.

“ You're so hot.” she said, breathing heavy. She pulled out, taking the strap off and throwing it on the chair in the corner of the room. You flipped over, the wetness between your thighs leaving spots all over the sheets.

“ I am dead.” you spoke still panting, Emily chuckled darkly.

“ You did a good job today. Now how about some lunch?” she read your mind. You nodded, still laying flat on your back. She got up and grabbed a pizza menu from the counter before returning next to you.

***

It was late, and you were still naked in Emily’s bed. You’d fucked practically all day. Taking little rests to recover and drink and eat. You felt your eyelids growing heavier as sleep was trying to come over you.

“ It's okay if you want to sleep. I’ve got some things I need to look over anyway.” you guessed she noticed that you could barely keep your eyes open. Thank god you didn’t have any plans for the weekend. You just wanted to be naked in her bed. Sleep overcame you. Emily was preoccupied on her iPad, swiping through some work material before joining you shortly after, also still naked.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed and a note on the side table.

“Emily?” you called before getting up with the sheet wrapped around your naked body.

The note just stated that she had gotten called into work and she didn’t want to wake you. She did leave her actual phone number so you could text her when you got home, which was way better than email. You decided that it was probably a good idea to get up and moving. You scrambled around the room looking for your clothes and putting them on. You made the bed and grabbed the rest of your stuff before leaving and locking the door behind you.

Once you arrived home you texted Emily saying that you got home and that you would want to see her again. You figured she was busy and couldn’t reply so you went about your day. Most of it consisted of tidying up your apartment and watching reruns of “friends”. Hours passed and Emily still hadn’t replied. You thought about texting her again but you also knew that wouldn’t do any good. You ended up dozing off on the couch watching tv.

You woke up the next morning and still nothing from Emily. You decided not to think about it too much. You guys never talked about anything other than cleaning and fucking. You decided to get up and run some errands. Food shopping and some laundry. You washed all your sheets and towels, vacuumed, dusted, did everything you possibly could to try and keep your mind off Emily. More hours passed and you were a bottle of wine deep, watching tv. Then your phone finally went off. It was finally Emily getting back to you. Her text just said to meet her at her place at 10pm tonight…

[hils79]

Hils Watches Moonlight Chicken - Ep 2

Doesn't Wen have a job? Wasn't that why he was drunk the day he met Jim. Not sure how he can just sign on to be a waiter like that. Hopefully all will become clear. Or maybe it won't.

Pretty sure they just gave Fourth the same clothes he wore in My School President

So, he's offered to work for this rich family to pay back the money for an item their son broke. Shitty. But to say 'you have to clean the house and then hang out with my son if we're not home' is a bit much. Heart is just going to be annoyed that his parents have basically hired a friend for him, and Li Ming hates Heart for blaming the breakage on him, and is now being paid to hang out with him. It's all fucked.

I bet they end up falling in love :D

I love that because this is only 8 episodes long there's very little build. Fighting over a mop then OH NO OUR HANDS ARE TOUCHING

These two are so damn cute I don't even know what to do

Okay, yeah, there's definitely a story with Wen. Like I know he took the job because he wants to spend time with Jim but what about his other job?

I know how GMM dramas work. Gaipa is definitely going to end up with someone. Probably not Leng though since he appears to have a girlfriend

Ah, I think I see where this is going. Is Heart going to end up tutoring Li Ming in English? THEN they'll fall in love

Wow he got over the whole 'you framed me for something you did and now I have work as a housekeeper for free' thing very fast

I hope there is a cat treat product placement break in every episode

Okay, Wen still has his other job. I'm not entirely sure what that other job is but he has a clipboard so he must be important

I kind of assumed when they had a drunken hookup in the first episode that the plot would be drama based around that. But nope they're just all smiley and adorable around each other.

Congrats, Wen, your love interest's nephew is now also your nephew

GDI I was really annoyed with this whole situation but they're being so adorable I can't be mad. Everyone in this is so cute!

God, he's so earnest and sweet and is a dad to everyone. I love him and I'm definitely not crying

Oh, is the drama going to be around money rather than the hookup? I suppose that does tie in with the relationship between Heart and Li Ming too

Aww, dude, come on. Don't be jealous just because Wen is talking to someone else. Anyone can see that he's into you

ALMOST 40! Earth is 29 years old!

Wen is also a good boy. I look forward to Jim realising he's allowed to be happy

[punkiexist]

so i watched housekeeper (1992) and was thinking about a lawrusso au; and like this is what i thought

modern + fake dating!au. they're in college; i thought johnny could be in architecture class and daniel in business;

daniel and johnny know each other and are always fighting about something but no karate involved (bc i have no idea how to write fight scenes sorry;

johnny was dating ali, they were highschool sweethearts and were the most annoying couple y'know;

but she broke up with him because, well, he’s johnny and there’s going to be a reason i just don’t know what it could be;

a few months later she’s dating again and johnny after crying like a baby (but no one can know that) decided to be an idiot and tell her he also had a date;

and he also says she’ll meet him in a party that some kid is throwing, because they're obviously going;

so. the next week he’s trying to find a date in every bar he knows;

and the rest of the cobras are there too, they’re supposed to help but they’re just laughing at johnny and not doing their job;

bobby + tommy told him to just tell her the truth;

jimmy + dutch are the ones that are encouraging him;

then he runs into daniel in one of these bars;

they are talking (fighting?) and something just clicks in joihnny's mind and he makes the best or worst decision in his life;

"larusso, do you wanna be my fake boyriend this weekend?"

"what?"

"be my fake boyfriend so my ex will want me back! i wanna make her jealous!"

"dude... what the fuck?"

after a lot of talking he kinda agrees to do it and there's more plot and all but i'm lazy sorry;

they go to this party and ali see them and thinks that's all a lie and starts asking the cobras if they are really a couple;

dutch: "of course they are! all that fight was just sexual tension!"

tommy: "you should see them more, they stay in their own little world and forget there's people around"

bobby: "well, why wouldn't it be? it was always in front of us"

she even asks jimmy girlfriend, but even the girl says is real. so she just accepts it... does she?;

they start hanging out more and at some point they decide they're actually good friends;

sometimes daniel sleeps at johnny's just because ali lives in the same building johnny lives and she would see him;

because everything they're doing is to make her jealous;

which, by the way, is working;

then she starts invinting them to every party she knows because it would be nice to have more couples in their circle of friends;

in one of these meeting someone says they should talk about what they like the most about their partners;

and since daniel is the one that actually is always talking about what he likes about johnny, he starts but someone decides that johnny should say something for once;

and that's when johnny starts to panic because he's not a romantic guy and has no idea what to talk about;

so he talks about stuff they did like listen to speedwagon in daniels car while eating pizza after class;

he talks about when daniel slept in his house and decided to clean every thing and buy food. so when he and dutch woke up the whole apartment was actually clean and they had real food;

so they decided daniel should live with them forever;

he talks abou daniels food and how good it is. and everyone buys it because they can see they're in love;

and that's when it starts getting weird;

and just like in housekeeper everything starts to turn into a ball of lies and no one knows what to do anymore;

the boys are getting crazy because they say stuff that don't match what the other is saying;

bc johny actually likes daniel and doesn't know how to deal with that;

and daniel is just there. being himself. laughing and cleaning and cooking and being fucking pretty;

bobby is the first one to notice, and johnny can finally talk about it;

about how scared he is that daniel will be disgusted or something worse;

and then leave and tell ali about the fake dating;

and ruin his life!;

then the rest of the cobras know and decides that they're helping johnny get the d;

and there is a lot more, but i just don't know how to write about it sorry;

but yeah, lawrusso fake dating au when?

[maytheoddshq]

Caspian Firth (he/him). District Four Tribute. 23. Timothee Chalamet.

Some believe that at the center of everyone is goodness, and that the world builds shells around that goodness, layers upon layers that cover up that goodness until it can’t be seen nor acted upon.

Others believe that this is bullshit.

Caspian Firth paid his way into the District Four Career Academy. His parents were fishermen, as was everyone in the town he grew up in, a small one not far from the District’s center. He grew up reeling in nets, born with sea legs. He’d swim for hours, disappearing into the waves and testing his stamina, pushing as far as he could go until he feared he might drown, and then saving himself. Again, again. Drawing himself to the edge of death and pulling himself back like waves kissing the shore before leaving again.

When he was twelve, he started saving money and working odd jobs until he had enough to pay for a semester at the Academy. Once there, he convinced the headmaster to allow him to work for half-off tuition, so after everyone else had gone to bed, he worked alongside the janitors, cooks, and housekeepers, scrubbing down the equipment, preparing breakfast, taking out the trash. He took odd jobs in town as well to keep up with the payments, sleeping three, maybe four hours per night. All of it was done with a purpose: to be part of the Hunger Games, the most glorious sporting event the world had ever seen. The stakes were high, the emotions higher. He loved it, looked forward to watching it every year. He wanted nothing more than to be a part of it, to master it and win it. To show that he could. It didn’t come from a desire to rise above his station; he truly didn’t care that he’d been born lower class. It didn’t come from a desire to prove anyone wrong about him; in fact, as he was one of nine siblings, no one really cared what he did. People didn’t underestimate or overestimate him: they simply failed to estimate at all.

No, he wanted to participate in the Games out of a pure desire to be part of them. Simply put: it looked like fun. He was well aware that he could die in the process, but that was what would make it so exhilarating. He’d played these kinds of dying-games since he was a child, after all, with the waves as his competitors, the pull of the ocean calling to him.

He took advantage of his unique position to learn more about the other students, his competition. He looked through their trash, searching for information, weaknesses, connections he could exploit. On the morning of a big tournament between students to determine the top of the class, he poured liquor into the pancake batter, and easily won against his drunken competition. He found out that a girl who always beat him in the simulators had a crush on another boy in their level; he left her flowers and a note supposedly from the boy, asked her to meet him outside at midnight. He watched from an upper window as she waited for two hours while the boy didn’t show, and then spread a rumor the next day that she’d been stood up. She became a laughing stock, front and center to the cruelty of the Academy students, and she dropped out the day after.

He learned the ins and outs of the machinery in the training center and in the night, when no one was around and he was there on the pretense of cleaning, he’d rig the machines for the next day, switching around the ‘hard’ and ‘easy’ settings or re-programming the holograms to his own advantage. It wasn’t hard, when you watched the trainers reset them each day by tapping the upper right of the screen and entering their administrators’ code. You just had to pay attention. It was all about paying attention.

All of this wasn’t because he wasn’t good at fighting and weaponry; he was. The problem was that he was scrawny, and his best asset was his brain, as well as his ruthlessness. He truly didn’t give a fuck about harming his competition, nor did he care about making friends. Everyone else was a piece of his puzzle, and he used them accordingly, befriending some and shunning others strategically. Everything in his life tilted towards the Games.

Rio and Carol’s recent victories have inspired him, and he’s sure that a third victory in the span of only a few years will bring Four into the territory of One and Two, so that everyone will know how strong Four is, and that they are not to be underestimated. He competed brutally (and cheated sporadically) in all of the tournaments that determined who would volunteer for 133, and he won.

Now? It’s showtime.

+: headstrong, determined, clever

-: selfish, uncaring, cold

PENNED BY: VIRGINIA

[momoiiiyume]

ease your worries

maid au nicola x risa wc: 791

note: i did have an au with maid so i quickly wrote this for maid day. this au is gonna be nsfw but this ficlet is very fluffy and comfort. i don't know if i'm capable of writing nsfw yet but just know maid au is raunchy and spicy. hehe

===

Nicola took long strides through the halls as many of his housekeepers bowed to greet him. He barely acknowledges them as he has a lot of difficult things in mind. He loosens his tie as he exhales. He’d just gotten out of a long, extensive meeting that should’ve been at least thirty minutes but went on for far longer than he wanted to. His board of directors had too much to say about Dante’s experience as a CEO but he did the best he could to defend him. Dante was pretty new to being CEO as his father had just retired two years ago but he held up pretty well as Silvio had taught him all the things he needed to know. Next time, some old geezer says shit about Dante, he may not show up tomorrow.

It took some time, but Nicola took the meeting in the right course and on topic. Now, he was out of the company building, but he still had some work to do, which he could do remotely in his home. At least no one can disturb him at home. He orders his employees to not bother him as he works, unless its something urgent. As president of the company, he can never take a true break.

He opened the doors to his home office and caught sight of his maid, Risa. She was only hired just a few weeks ago, but something about her had intrigued him. She was assigned to be in kitchen duty but Nicola decided she would be the only one to tend to him. 

She was cleaning his office as it’s rarely been used so dust has been collecting. She was too busy cleaning the shelves to realize he entered the room. He smirked. He liked that about her – diligent, focused and cute, for that matter. Whoever designed the maid uniforms must’ve had Risa in mind because she looked damn good in them. He just wants to rip that uniform off her and – no, never mind.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he walked over to his desk and sat on the chair. The rolling of the chair made a sound which caused the maid to stop cleaning and look over. She audibly gasped when she found out who entered the room. “Oh! Master! I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Welcome home, Master.” She bowed to him in a panic. 

He chuckled, “Risa, I told you before, call me Nicola when we’re alone. No need for that master shit.” 

“S-Sorry, Ma-... N-Nicola.” It was like music to his ears whenever she said his name. And hearing it when he fucks her just makes him go mad. It’s insane how he feels for her. 

“There we go.” He smiles with his eyes closed. Risa can only laugh nervously, she’s still not used to it, considering their positions. Nicola is her boss and she’s his employee. It’s not easy to be on a first-name basis with someone of a high position. Nicola reassures her it’s fine, as long as they’re alone. They’re in a relationship but no one except them knows about it. They’ve kept it hidden from everyone, including Dante. If word gets out, that could only spell trouble. 

Nicola turns to his computer and turns it on with a sigh. He slumps on his chair as the computer boots up. Hearing the sigh, Risa notices this. She turns to him. “Uhm, Nicola? Is everything alright?” 

He faces her and feels a little better. “Huh? Oh, yeah. It’s okay. Just some complicated things at the company but nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” 

“Help?” He pivots his head upwards as if to think. “Maybe, just one thing.” He turns to her again, a smile on his face. “Come here, Risa.”

She widens her eyes at his request before walking over to him, a bit weary.

“Don’t worry, we don’t have to do that today. For now, I just want to hold you. Take away my tiredness from today.” 

“As you wish, Nicola.” She says as she climbs on his lap and wraps her arm behind his neck for grip as Nicola holds her waist and lays his head on her neck, closing his eyes to feel her. “Thank you. This is nice. I’m glad you don’t have to be in a room with old men who do nothing but yap about nonsense.”

“Is that so? Well, I’ve had my fair share of nagging through my life, so I understand a bit.” She pulls him closer to her and holds him close. “I’ll be here to ease your discomfort. No need to think about them.” 

“Thank you, signorina.”

[livingfictionsystem]

Front desk story of the day.

We had the carpets of our entire building shampoo'd. This was an especially ill-judged move by management because we were sold out the entire weekend for jazz fest and it was decided that it Needed to be done today.

Anyway. We told our check-ins that the carpets may still be a bit damp.

This is what ensued:

Guest: My carpet's damp! D<

Me: Oh, the building had our carpets cleaned today. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Guest: How many rooms?

Me: All of them?

Guest: There's no way. That's so many rooms.

Me: Well, it did, in fact, happen. (And fucked up housekeeping's schedule.)

Guest: So you're telling me ALL the rooms was their carpets cleaned?

Me: Yes?

Guest: GROSS. -hangs up-

Then they complain on our messaging system. They threaten to book at the neighboring hotel instead. I tell them to go for it.

Then they call down again.

Guest: Um I was told that All of the rooms had been shampoo'd today?

Me: Yes, they were.

Guest: There's no way. (She's sounding snide, as if catching me in a lie.)

Me: They definitely were.

Guest: Well, we'll need twenty towels, then.

Me: ... I'm not sure if we have that many on hand--

Guest: You do. I am NOT going to walk on a carpet with CHEMICALS and I'm going to put the towels on the FLOOR so my feet don't SOAKED with these CHEMICALS.

Me: ... Well, I'll check--

Guest: And you'll call back within 30 seconds?

Me: .-. Well, considering I have a line at the desk, I'll look into it and get back with you as soon as possible.

When they told my coworker they were checking out, I printed that receipt so damned fast.

-Xhaxhollari

[pansexualkiba]

so i've talked about how i work housekeeping at a hospital. okay so.

today i was supposed to work the child's ward. which is. as you'd expect. where they keep all the sick and ill kids. (kids is basically anyone who is still seeing a pediatrician btw so they go from infants to like, nineteen.) this isn't really nothing i've worked this floor before everyone knows me and i left a good first impression. kabru coded. who said that.

anyways the main point is i get started on the floor, and the other housekeeper comes up to me and says "oh btw they moved prenatal from the picu into one of the four halls on this ward" and i'm like "oh that's cool" and then she says "yeah so they're not allowing any males into that hall" and my ass is like "okay? weird but whatever." and then she's like "yeah so because of that we're banning you entirely from this floor and instead moving you into the shock trauma ward in a different building."

and i recounted this to a nurse in trauma (i'm not out to anyone at my job for my own safety so for all intents and purposes i'm a man here) and she's like "what. that doesn't make any sense. what about the nurses." and i'm like EXACTLY!!! like

are they assuming every man is a sex pervert??? who is horny in fucking prenatal care???? who is horny IN THE HOSPITAL???? like porn lied to yall the hospital is literally the least sexy place in the world you're there cause you're deliriously sick or in excruciating pain. it's even less sexy for me because i clean up blood and piss all day. i'm more concerned on having enough mop heads for the floors.

this is fucking sexist, isn't it? like even the security guard, whose whole job it is is to just sit in the lobby and not go into any of the halls of the ward (cause it's a children's ward and we have a security code for child abduction) was a guy but then they were like "no it has to be all women here" like. last time i was there there were male nurses but no one on the floor was a guy. are men somehow incapable of treating pregnant women going into labor as people? why are you acting like the female nurses simply are unable to stand up to their male counterparts? once more we come back to "are they assuming all men are weird sex perverts in the least horny place in the world???" like WHAT. (the nurse i was telling this to agreed with me - in fact SHE said it was sexist and i agreed)

THIS WAS ONE HALL. THERE ARE THREE OTHER HALLS. LIKE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN THIS TO YOU BUT I COULD HAVE GONE THE ENTIRE SHIFT WITHOUT ENTERING THAT HALL. IT'S EXTREMELY DOABLE TOO SINCE THAT'S THE ONLY HALL YOU NEED TO SCAN YOUR WORK BADGE TO GET INTO. I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH THAT THERE WAS NO REASON TO MOVE ME TO BEGIN WITH.

anyways if anyone tries to go "men are just hardwired to prey on innocent women" on this post just know that bioessentialism is a disease and i hope you bleach every surface after you touch it <3

[pumpkinprice]

neighbor!leon - 18+ - part 2

cw: dubcon, fucking, fem reader

part 1 - not necessary to read tho

Mean neighbor Leon strikes again. This time in the building elevator. Mrs. Jones, from 3B, glares at you both when she steps out of the elevator. It's amazing that neither of you have been kicked out yet.

You know as soon as he hits the emergency stop, you’re in for it. He’s been gone for almost a month and he has that look in his eye. You were hoping the zombies would get him, but no such luck :( 

“Miss me, sweet girl?”

You’d tell him no, but it’ll just set him off. Better to get this over with quickly. Luckily for you, the longer Leon is out of town, the faster he cums.

Pants are quickly pulled off, your legs are being wrapped around his waist and he’s bullying his cock right into you. “Mm, you did miss me.” 

Your pussy will forever be your enemy when it comes to Leon Kennedy because she clenches him good, wanting him inside of her forever. You gasp, feeling him press against your cervix, hearing him mumble something about having his baby. 

The sounds of skin against skin and his groans are filling the elevator. Small moans leave your lips when his cock drags against that spot you can never reach on your own. 

“Needy whore.” His thrusts are already getting erratic and his words more incoherent. He thumbs your clit, wanting you to cum so your pussy will milk his cock that much more.

He smirks in your face as you start cumming, pussy not letting him go for anything. "She's a gusher tonight, isn't she?"

His hips give a few shallow thrusts before you feel his hot cum coat your insides, your pussy still clamping around him. You hate him so much but not as much as you hate yourself. Why do you always let him do this?

"Aw, sweetheart don't be mad. Your pussy isn't."

He pulls out, lets you go and you slump weakly to the floor. He glances down at you as he tucks himself back into his pants.

"Get the fuck up. You don't want housekeeping to have to clean up all that cum leaking out of you."

You glare up at him and he starts laughing. "Sit there then." He shrugs, hitting the elevator button. "But don't come crying to me when you finally get evicted."

You will..

[geoffrey]

i am begging people to be more normal about the bathroom. also less?? i literally dont even know what to say other than paranoid? had another person claim the bathroom was in a fucked state and "smelled noxious, someone threw away TP instead of flushing it" go in and the trash can is barely filled and just with paper towels and theres no smell. Don't make me go do a shit smell test because you don't want me to think YOU smell or whatever. i'm not ruining no housekeepers day either like i said they already clean it every few hours im not making them come in between for literally no reason. I don't care about the fucking bathroom if it is not on fire leave me alone. And people will tell ME about bathrooms on the other side of the building... employees even... do i LOOK????

[graylinesspam]

Unironically, language barriers are one of the best ways to peel back the vaneer of normalism on abusive corporate policy.

I'm training for a housekeeping position at a park that was only bought out by a corporate entity within the last two years. Before that it was all family owned and run.

And the housekeeping team was run by a Columbian family that regularly hosted foreign workers from Columbia, Mexico, and Brazil. Since corporatizing the family has left the park. But the other members of management that have been there from 4 to 12 years, have continued the method of hosting foreign workers.

The entire management team is Hispanic in some way and English is their second language. This is relevant because they've only been introduced to the corporate environment withing the last two years. And many left because of that. But those that have stayed have had to adopted those corporate mindsets in order to keep their jobs.

And the way that they are teaching and training us with these new corporate standards is incredibly honest and transparent about that environment.

Phrases like "if you have time to lean you have time to clean." and other corporate jargon are getting broken down to their bare essentials. The honest truth of them.

In the last two days of training I've been constantly told by management that "We don't sit.", "You can't stand still. Always keep moving.", "Always work. Don't stop.", "Don't let guests see you talking to each other."

They constantly tell us to hide from guests. We shouldn't be seen in groups bigger than two. We Shouldn't ever lean, slouch, or rest. We can't check the time. Diabetics can't eat anywhere guests can see.

And this goes so far beyond keeping busy and being presentable. They had us stranded today, with no more work to do, and no ride to the next sight. And they wouldn't let us rest. We (15+ new hires) cleaned every window, table, chair, and grill, in the section of the park.

We wiped down the outside of the buildings, literally scrubbing the walls. We knocked down spider webs, wasp nests. We swept the sidewalks, wiped down the railings, picked up every piece of trash.

And when literally everything available had been done we had to keep walking around. Literally in circles. for over and hour. I personally got reprimanded for leaning against a wall and for walking too slow.

One girl had to access her inhaler. One guy was released to the brake room for getting severaly overheated, and I personally threw my knee out walking up and downhill. Compensation for that injury also put undue stress on the ankle and hip of that leg.

Now this isn't like a horrific case of workers being subjected to heatstroke. We had access to water. No one fainted. This wasn't a gruesome case of people being overworked. This is just standard corporate abuse taken as literally as possible from people that didn't bother to put on the managerial act of pretending that this kind of work is for the good of the company. Or will benefit us all in the long run.

They didn't lie to us and tell us that we had a job to do, or that it was part of our training, or that we were picking up slack for someone else. They told us to our faces that we had to 'pretend' so the guests think we're busy. So the guests don't complain that we're being lazy.

There was no other reason to have us parading through the street acting like a grounds crew with insanely high standards. In upwards of 80° heat. For over an hour.

This is all to say that I fucking hate corporate America. And the casual honesty of this abuse is certainly a different experience than the gaslighting that normally occurs.

[possumcollege]

🤦‍♀️I have learned something that has made this topic even dumber.

Since the post above, I've learned that some of the cat-child panic has been fueled by photos of kitty litter in a classroom. Cranks are fretting themselves raw over the notion that schools are providing litter boxes for students identifying as cats.

My mother taught kindergarten for over 30yrs. I was a child. I've been in more public school classrooms than I can count. I now have a young child in school. I have been intimately acquainted with the needs and practices of public school teachers for most of my life. I now work in higher education.

If the litter isn't there for a class pet or science experiments, I can say with damn near 100% certainty that it's there to clean up vomit, urine, or other nasty liquid spills.

Kids are messy. Especially little kids who aren't great at knowing when they need to go pee, are too embarrassed to ask, or just have accidents. Their bladders don't always grow proportionately with the rest of them and you can't just shame kids into mastering their bodies. Kids also throw up a lot. From being over-excited, angry, sad, drinking too much chocolate milk, playing too hard, eating junk they shouldn't, they're kind of like cats. There's a non-zero chance of someone throwing up at least once a month in pre-k through maybe 5th grade.

When that happens, teachers or staff can:

Attack the mess with the institutional-grade paper products schools provide, which are about as absorbent as newsprint.

Call and wait for a custodian. Depending on the school, there may only be 1-5 people servicing facilities used by hundreds of students. My small town K-5 had at most 3 regular custodians, one of which was also the building engineer.

Use the precious good paper towels donated by parents because public school teachers in the US almost universally have to purchase their own everyday consumables .

Dump cat litter on it to keep the pool from spreading, buy time for the custodian/janitor/housekeeper to show up, and cut The Smell before the rest of the class starts a chain reaction.

I've seen teachers include litter in suggested donation items at the beginning of the semester along with spare socks, underwear, t-shirts, instant ice packs, band-aids, etc. because again, the average public school teacher's budget for materials is razor-thin.

Someone on Twitter questioned my assertion saying "wouldn't sawdust be better and cheaper? that's what my school used." Sawdust is damn near perfect for containing wet messes and it can be cheap, but it's not generally as accessible for the average consumer in 2023. Institutions will buy it cheap in bulk, or products like it specifically made for cleaning up bio-waste. However just about anybody can buy cheap kitty litter in gas stations, dollar stores, groceries, hardware stores, pet stores, pharmacies, convenience stores, in less- than-industrial quantities. I can virtually guarantee a box of litter will be cheaper and easier to find than a package of specialized vomit dust.

I've also heard the litter is somehow related to mass-shooting prep but that seems like more of a stretch. I heard someone on a podcast guess it was in case someone couldn't get to the bathroom during an emergency lockdown (a lot of US schools call them Code Reds), which isn't entirely implausible but still far less likely than regular spill/fluid management. I've also seen people online say the litter is for bleeding control but pouring cat litter into a wound is a fucking terrible idea. It can't be sterile and cleaning it out would be a trauma surgeon's nightmare.

This is a lot of words to reinforce the point that the "concern" over cat children is firmly rooted in transphobia and anti-LGBTQ+ bigotry. I think it's important to interrogate the reckless incuriousity that is such a structural element of bigotry. The core principle that the world has come to be the way it is because it is supposed to be that way, can create such toxic adherence to the status quo that it can turn just about any new piece of information into an existential crisis.

Why is cat litter in a place where there are no cats? The answer could be a sign that our society has become so soft that kids who want to be cats must be provided with litter boxes by administrators too afraid of being called bigots OR the answer could just be boring and kind of gross.

I saw this happen like a decade ago where people who didn't know how cars are moved by train were TERRIFIED to hear that the FBI was buying bi-level rail cars with "shackles" and air holes in the sides. Did this mean patriots were going to be shipped off to death camps on trains? Or does it mean the government has a lot of vehicles to move across the country and those vehicles need to be tied down so they don't smash into each other, and the trains need ventilation so those cars don't melt inside the giant steel box that the sun shines on? Instead, when someone pointed out that these train cars were for moving vehicles, the cranks theorized the state was somehow planning to round up undesirable Americans by hacking their vehicles' computers and kidnapping them in their cars.

Conspiracy theories and this kind of moral outrage always hinge on people needing there to be some nefarious, coordinated. intentional effort behind the parts of the world that "shouldn't" be. If the world is right and good, and the natural order is correct then why did this incomprehensible or terrible thing happen? What normal person could be so hostile to reality without being pushed by bad actors?

Sometimes shit does just happen. There will be things that don't make sense under a fixed model of existence. People are complicated creatures. We can treat these things as aberrations and spend our entire lives fighting the mere presence of the uncategorized, or learn to live in a world of the possible, even when seems frighteningly improbable. I understand that there is comfort and safety in the knowable, for there to be meaning, and a plan, that hell is simply chaos for some people. I also know that curiosity is one of humanity's greatest attributes and that imagination is what has enabled us to thrive in the world when it isn't being used to turn us against each other for the benefit of a privileged few.

That privileged class needs people to believe "this is how the world works." They need people to be afraid of gray areas, threats from outsiders, the unfamiliar, weird shit. They need us to have faith in their word or faith that our reward lies outside earthly things so they don't have to provide for us. This is so essential to entrenched systems of power that simple transparency and understanding of how the sausage actually gets made can't be treated as common knowledge. Incuriosity is the weapon and the shield of systems of control.

"A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day. — 'Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.' — Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood?..."

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Transphobic parents love to eat their own trails over that post about Unnamed Public School where a kid identifies as a cat.

Their monocle hasn't hit the ground yet before they post shit to their school board like, "I'm not sure if this is a thing or not but it sounds exactly like something they would do and if it's half as bad as I'm imagining, I fear any of us that survive will soon come to envy the dead!"

You can't make this shit up? It sounds exactly like the stories they make up to justify their need to get violently angry about a complete stranger's genitals. Even if it was true, it absolutely can't hurt them. The real police couldn't make these people wear masks or stop going to bars during a pandemic and they think the Woke SS is going to mass-grave them for defending their right to be a shit to other people's kids.

I get that it's because being that furious about a real thing makes it too easy to call them a bigot. "I don't hate the kids, I hate what could come next if we stop reminding kids how to be good boys and girls."

It's easier to pretend they're worried about escalation instead of owning up to the confusion and rage they feel because the image they hold of the world isn't the majority position anymore. Condolences.

[reallyromealone]

hi, I hope you're doing fine and are safe/healthy. I don't know if you're accepting requests as of the moment and if mine is acceptable, but can I ask for bonten's son that's being neglected by the babysitter or something because they're confident that those scary dads won't ever know since they've been the babysitter for a long time now and nothing happened to them? like, they became so confident now that they forgot the dads literally run a criminal organization :D the cliché type of thing. I've just been searching for protective dads (for fluffs) and I can't find any :') if you are uncomfortable with this though, please ignore it. thank you!

but if you ever consider this, please take your time. there's no need to rush, thanks!

It's time bitches

Y'all don't even know

You don't EVEN KNOW HOW LONG I HAVE BEEN WAITING

WARNING: CHILD NEGLECT AND KIND OF ABUSE, BONTEN PROTECTIVE AS HELL, SWEARING

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

(Nanny) has been in charge of watching (name) since he was around ten months old and over the past year they became cocky as hell and genuinely believed they were untouchable because they were the Bonten nanny.

Because of this cocky attitude they thought they could get away with neglecting little (name) without any of them knowing.

(Name) began missing meals as the nanny chatted away on the phone "yeah, I'm like super important in Bonten so I'm practically untouchable" they boasted while (name) sat hungry and upset while sitting in a dirty diaper.

"Yeah, the little brat learned not to cry about "I want a cookie" or "I want daddy" he's Such a brat"

(Name) was incredibly hungry and uncomfortable at this point, literally he would be down to eat anything and decided that he would go and find food.

Waddling into the expensive buildings halls, the nanny not keeping the baby gates up because they found the gates to keep (name) from getting into things he shouldn't annoying and inconveniencing to them, not to mention not keeping the special baby door locks locked.

(Name) wandered down the hall in search for food and hopefully someone to change his diaper because he was very itchy and upset about it.

"(Name)? What the hell are you doing out here?" Rindō said incredulously as the Bonten men stepped through the elevator, what was their son doing up at ten o'clock at night in the hallway to the penthouse "papa..." (Name) said upset as he held his arms up to be lifted "come here-- whoa why is your diaper so fucking full?!"

(Name) was teary eyed as he noticed papa no.1 aka Mikey eating Taiyaki and reached out to it desperately as his belly rumbled "have you not eaten?!"

At this point the Bonten dad's were livid, their poor baby was starving and waddling with a full diaper in the halls of the building.

"I'm gonna kill that fuckin' nanny" Sanzu seethed as the group stomped to the penthouse where the nanny was chatting away and even eating the snacks they bought FOR (NAME).

"The fuck is this? You let our kid wander outside with a full diaper and eat the snacks we got for him and just talk away on the phone?" Kakucho seethed as Mikey looked to ran "take care of (name), were gonna have a 'talk' with (nanny) about child care" he said seriously and Ran nodded and brought (name) to the tots bedroom "let's see here...whoa!" Ran was blown back by the awful smell and cleaned up the boy "let's get you some rash cream bud" ran said inspecting the red rash the boy sported due to the nanny not changing him enough "that probably feels loads better yeah?"

"Papa..." (Name) said blearily "well thank goodness we keep snacks in your playroom right?"

"Berry?"

"I think the housekeeper restocked your strawberries yes"

Ran didn't bother changing his son, letting him chill in his diaper as they sat on the soft foam mat, ran taking a juice box and a container of fresh sliced strawberries from that morning and the boy practically gobbled them down and periodically halted to take sips from his juice as he leaned into his dad's lap and stomach, his belly filling up "that better bud?"

"How is he?" Koko asked as he walked into the playroom, little (name) gobbling his strawberries and ran handed the boy some crackers to help fill his belly "he's got a really bad diaper rash and he's starving, oi (name)! Slow down bud"

"The nanny has been brought to the other location to be handled, don't worry (name) we will find you a suitable nanny" Koko promised his son who had strawberry all over his face "t-they no good" (name) mumbled before inevitably pushing away the berries now full "now let's get you to bed, if I remember correctly Papa Sanzu promised you a bedtime story" it was a promise Sanzu made because he ate all of (name)s jelly snacks while high.

And (name) was keeping him to that "story!" (Name) said excitedly and when they walked back into the luxury livingroom the nanny was gone and Rindō was tidying up some mess "Sanzu, you're in for strory time"

"Shit... Well let's get this story done (name)" Sanzu said taking the kid and leaving the other seven "so what are we doing until we find another nanny?"

"We will be in rotation, one of us will stay with (name) and we will trade shifts and such until then" Mikey said simply as he ate his snacks "tomorrow though were taking him to the doctor to make sure he's alright, god knows how long the nanny did this to him"