#i need to look determined. i need to make it to the last year

[tsukumomei]

OKOKOK in my mind in the “puppy love” fic, reader is moving to spain

and then three years later sae comes to spain cause he gets scouted by re al you know the story

and so they meet again ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 (they have cute “dates” if you will, where she shows him around spain and what not 🤭)

now idk if you’re taking requests at the moment, or even want to write a part two for this, but i (and many others i feel like) would LOVE to see this!

no force though, if you do wish to write it take your time, and if you don’t it’s all fine too!

much love, xoxo 💋

a/n: This is actually insane because this is EXACTLY what I had in mind for a bonus part! I was originally going to end it when they saw each other again, but I took your request and wrote about their dates too. Enjoy! Mwah! I wouldn’t consider this a part 2, though—if I ever write one, it’ll still be from Rin’s POV. But I’m open to writing more bonus parts for this fic, so feel free to send me an ask! ^^

—RIGHT WHERE WE LEFT OFF

ft. Sae Itoshi

a bonus chapter for Puppy Love

synposis: Sae moves to Madrid after getting scouted by Real, but he has two problems. One—he hates it. The city feels unfamiliar, foreign, nothing like home. Two—he’s determined to forget about you. But the harder he tries, the more his own mind betrays him—because no matter what he does, everything leads him right back to you. wc: 3.1 k

The shuffling in Sae’s carry-on grows more frantic as he impatiently searches for that notebook from you.

It was the first thing he stuffed into his bag.

Flipping through the worn pages, his eyes finally land on the last one—covered in messy scribbles, but the only thing that stands out is a single line written in red ink at the bottom:

"Wait for me. ❤️ Y/N"

Sae presses his thumb against the words, as if touching them could somehow bring back the past. Could somehow make you feel real again.

He leans back into his seat, staring out at the endless stretch of sky beyond the plane window, but it’s not Madrid he’s thinking about. It’s you.

This morning, back at the house, he’d been kicking a soccer ball around the backyard, the steady thud of leather against concrete filling the quiet air. Rin was there too, watching him with a knowing look before finally speaking up.

"Nii-chan, it was just puppy love."

Maybe it was. Maybe Rin was right.

But if it was just puppy love, why is it still lingering?

Why did he still worry—that if you ever came back, that you’d be mad at him for not being there?

It’s been three years.

The chances of seeing you again were close to impossible.

—

Sae steps into his new apartment in Madrid, rolling his suitcase inside as his manager gestures around the space.

“This is your living room,” his manager begins, flipping on the lights. The apartment is modern, minimalistic—exactly what Sae expected. “Kitchen’s over there. Fridge is stocked for now, but you’ll need to do your own groceries after this week.”

Sae nods, setting his bag neatly by the couch.

“The bedroom’s down the hall,” the manager continues, walking ahead. “Bathroom’s connected. There’s a desk if you need to study or review game footage. Wi-Fi’s already set up.”

Sae peeks into the bedroom—plain, clean, nothing extravagant. Just a bed, a nightstand, and a small window overlooking the street below.

“You’re across the hall?” Sae asks as they return to the main area.

“Yeah,” his manager confirms, crossing. “If you need anything, just knock.”

Sae scoffs lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

His manager gives him a once-over, then exhales. “Good. Then I’ll leave you to settle in.”

With that, the manager steps out, leaving Sae alone.

The moment the door clicks shut, Sae gets to work. He unzips his luggage, methodically putting his clothes away, setting his toiletries in the bathroom, and neatly stacking his training gear by the closet. He takes mental notes of what he needs—more food, basic supplies, maybe an extra pillow.

Once everything is in place, he pulls out his phone and dials home.

His mother picks up almost immediately. “Sae?”

“I just landed and got to the apartment,” he informs her, his voice steady. “Everything’s fine.”

“That’s good,” she says warmly. “Have you eaten?”

“I will soon.”

“Don’t just eat whatever’s fastest. Make sure you’re getting proper meals.”

Sae hums in acknowledgment before adding, “Tell Dad I made it safely. And Rin, too.”

“Of course,” his mother says. There’s a brief pause, then a softer, knowing tone in her voice. “It feels real now, doesn’t it?”

Sae leans against the counter, staring at the empty space around him. His new home. His new life.

“Yeah,” he murmurs.

After a few more exchanges, he hangs up, setting his phone aside.

His eyes drift to his carry-on, to the one thing he hadn’t put away yet.

The notebook.

The worn cover, the slightly frayed edges—he traces them with his fingers before flipping it open once again. The pages are filled with your handwriting, messy yet familiar, scrawled with thoughts and doodles from years ago.

It’s ridiculous, really. He hasn’t seen you in three years. He has no idea where you are, if you’re still in the same country, if you even remember him the way he remembers you.

But memories flood in anyway. The afternoons spent at the park, your determined expression when you first crashed his soccer game, the way you always talked too much but somehow, he never minded. The way you scribbled on his arm once with the same red ink you used to write—

"Wait for me. ❤️ y/n"

Sae exhales sharply and shuts the notebook.

Maybe it really was just puppy love.

He stands, grabs his wallet, and heads for the door.

He needs to get out, get familiar with the city. He’s going to live here now, after all.

—

The city is foreign, unfamiliar—Sae hates it.

He was never one for traveling. The only reason he’s here is to play soccer at an international level, but outside of that, it feels suffocating in a way he never expected.

The streets are too loud yet too quiet at the same time. He doesn’t understand the conversations happening around him, the unfamiliar syllables blending into meaningless noise. The people pass by in a blur, all strangers, none of them acknowledging him beyond quick  glances.

It’s not like he’s stupid enough to get scammed—he’s careful, always aware of his surroundings. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t belong here. It doesn’t change how frustrating it is to have all this free time and nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

The city is alive, buzzing with movement, but it only makes the loneliness feel sharper.

—

Today marks his second week in Madrid.

Sae realizes just how useless he is when it comes to directions.

The sun is already beginning to set, casting a golden glow over Madrid, and he has no idea where he is.

The street signs might as well be in a foreign language—which, technically, they are. He squints at them, but the unfamiliar words blur together, useless in helping him find his way. And as for Spanish? Well, he knows about as much as a toddler forming his first sentence.

Great.

Of course, it’s at a time like this that he remembers you.

Because you were always the human GPS between the two of you, navigating streets like you had a built-in map inside your head. You always knew the right turns to take, the fastest shortcuts.

And right now? Right now, he is the one most in need of that skill.

Rin thinks Sae is perfect, so he probably doesn’t even know about this little flaw of his.

Sae scoffs to himself, shaking his head. It’s ridiculous that, even now, when he’s supposed to be moving on, he still finds himself thinking about you.

He exhales sharply, pushing the thoughts away.

Enough.

With renewed determination, Sae steps onto the crosswalk, telling himself—again—that it’s time to leave his childhood love in the past.

But by the time he reaches the middle, doubt creeps in—just enough for him to hesitate, just enough for him to misstep.

And just enough for him to accidentally bump into someone walking from the opposite direction.

"Perdón," the girl mutters, barely sparing him a glance—until she does.

She stops short, eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh."

Sae blinks.

"It’s you."

For a moment, the city fades into the background. The people rushing past, the hum of conversation, the faint honking of impatient drivers—it all disappears.

You look different now. Your hair is dyed, a little wavier than before. A stylish bag hangs off your shoulder, outfit effortlessly put together in a way that makes you stand out even in the middle of Madrid.

But to him, you’re still the same stubborn girl who once barged into his soccer game with Rin, the one who never asked for permission—just demanded a pass like you belonged there. The one who never looked at him like everyone else did.

Your eyes are the same. That’s what catches him the most. Time has changed a lot of things, but not that. They still hold the same warmth, the same quiet confidence.

Sae wonders if he looks different to you, too. If you notice the way his shoulders have grown broader, the way the exhaustion lingers under his eyes. If you can tell that beneath all the fame and titles, there’s still a part of him that never stopped waiting for you.

Neither of you speak. Just stood there, caught in something neither of you were prepared for.

Sae exhales, then—without thinking—extends his hand toward you

But before you can take it, a sharp whistle cuts through the air.

"¡Oye! Move it!"

The traffic officer’s whistle cuts through the air, snapping both of you out of your daze.

Startled, you both turn at the same time, realizing the light has already turned green—and you’re still standing in the middle of the crosswalk.

Reality has always had a way of interrupting you two, hasn’t it?

Sae clenches his jaw, frustration flickering across his face. Meanwhile, you weren’t handling it any better—because instead of just walking away like a normal person, you were flipping off the traffic officer and hurling a wooden spoon at him.

Where did you even get that? Sae has no idea. And honestly, he’s not sure he wants to.

But then he feels you grab his arm, yanking him across the street as you break into a run—both of you fleeing from the traffic officer, who Sae can only assume is cursing you out in rapid Spanish.

And just like that, his expression softens.

—

“Whew, that was close,” you say between heavy breaths, still catching your breath from all that running.

Sae glances at you, unimpressed. “Maybe if you didn’t throw a spoon at him, we wouldn’t have to run.”

You roll your eyes, waving him off. “Oh, please. That guy already hates me. This isn’t even the first time, you know.”

Sae raises a brow. “Not surprised.”

You nudge him with your elbow. “Hey! Rude.”

He exhales sharply, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “What did you do to piss him off before?”

You smirk, tilting your head playfully. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Sae gives you a look—unamused but intrigued nonetheless. “I would, actually.”

You grin, pretending to think. “Let’s just say… it involved a churro cart, an old lady, and a very, very unfortunate slip on my part.”

Sae stares at you for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re a menace.” 

You flash him a cheeky smile. “And yet, here you are, running away from traffic officers with me.”

He huffs but doesn’t argue. Because, somehow, you’re right—because he’s relieved that he can finally talk to someone other than his manager, and just as relieved to see that you haven’t changed at all.

Isn’t it ironic? The very day he decides to finally let go of your memory, fate throws you right back into his life.

But something nags at him. You haven’t asked about Madrid, about why he’s here. It’s like you’re not surprised at all, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to bump into him on the street.

Sae narrows his eyes slightly before speaking. “Hey, you’re not gonna ask?”

“Ask what?” you blink at him, confused. Then, as if remembering something, your face lights up. “Oh! Where are my manners?”

Before he can react, you throw yourself at him, wrapping him in a warm embrace.

Sae stiffens, caught completely off guard. But before he can say anything, you sigh dramatically against his shoulder. “I missed you so much! I can’t believe you followed me all the way to Spain. Oh, you really do love me.”

He clicks his tongue, exasperated. You’re being an idiot again—definitely pushing it.

But he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t deny it.

Instead, after a brief hesitation, he exhales and wraps a single arm around you, listening as you ramble on like no time has passed at all.

—

“Maybe I should put a tracker on you.” you tease, walking a step ahead of Sae as you lead him through the narrow streets of Madrid.  

He exhales sharply, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I would’ve figured it out eventually.”  

You throw him a look over your shoulder. “Yeah, sure. After getting lost for another three hours.”  

Sae doesn’t bother denying it. Instead, he follows as you turn into an alleyway, stopping in front of a small, unassuming café tucked between two buildings. 

“This place has the best tostada con tomate in the city,” you say, nodding toward the café. 

“The old man inside—Rafa—he always yells at me for ordering too much, but then he sneaks me an extra pastry for free.”  

As if on cue, the door swings open, and an elderly man steps out. His eyes land on you, and a slow grin spreads across his face. “¡Ah, mira quién es! La niña que me arruina el negocio.” (Ah, look who it is! The girl who’s ruining my business.)  

You laugh, stepping forward to greet him. “Don’t lie, Rafa. You love me.”  

Rafa scoffs but affectionately ruffles your hair before turning to Sae, eyes narrowing in scrutiny. “¿Y este quién es?” (And who’s this?)  

“My amigo,” you reply smoothly, though there’s a glint of mischief in your eyes. “He just moved here, so I’m showing him around.”  

Rafa studies Sae for a moment before nodding in approval. “Bien. Come inside. I’ll make sure he eats something decent.”  

Sae barely has time to protest before you’re dragging him through the door, the scent of warm spices and grilled meat immediately filling the air. The restaurant is small, a little tucked away from the busier streets, but it’s lively, filled with laughter and the soft hum of conversation.

When the food arrives, you dig in without hesitation, taking a bite and immediately letting out a dramatic sigh. “Oh my god,” you moan, clutching your chest like you’ve just ascended to heaven. “This is it. This is what happiness tastes like.”

Sae raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You sound ridiculous.”

“You sound jealous,” you retort, shoveling another bite into your mouth. “You haven’t even touched your food.”

Sae watches you for a moment. The way you eat so shamelessly, without a care for how you look, is something he vaguely remembers from when you were kids. Some things never change.

“I’m just letting you be the poison tester,” he mutters, finally picking up his fork.

You roll your eyes. “Please. If Rafa wanted to kill me, he would’ve done it years ago.”

Rafa, passing by, snorts. “She’s not wrong.”

Sae sighs, finally taking a bite. He won’t admit it, but it’s good. Really good.

Just as you’re finishing your plate, you glance at your phone and stand abruptly. “Be right back. Don’t go running off without me.”

Sae only scoffs in response, watching as you disappear towards the bathroom. The moment you’re gone, Rafa leans against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to Sae with a knowing smirk.

“She talked about you before, you know,” Rafa says casually.

Sae tenses slightly. “Did she?”

Rafa nods, chuckling. “Not by name. Just 'some guy I used to know who’s hopeless with anything besides soccer and even worse with emotions.'”

Sae huffs. “Sounds like something she'd say.”

Rafa shrugs. “Well, if you’re sticking around, you better get used to her dragging you everywhere. She’s got a habit of making lost people feel at home.”

Sae doesn’t respond, just looks at him, expression unreadable. Rafa only chuckles, shaking his head as he wipes down the counter.

A moment later, you return, eyes narrowing the second you spot them. “What’s this?” you ask suspiciously, sliding back into your seat. “What were you two talking about?”

Rafa smirks, tilting his head towards Sae. “Oh, nothing much. Just sharing stories.”

You gasp dramatically, pointing a finger at Sae. “You weren’t talking bad about me, were you?”

Sae finally speaks, deadpan. “Wouldn’t need to. You embarrass yourself enough.”

You scoff, reaching over to steal a piece of food from his plate. “Unbelievable. I leave for one second, and you two become best friends conspiring against me.”

Rafa laughs. “Don’t worry, querida. He’s not that easy to befriend.”

You nod sagely. “That’s true. I had to force him to like me.”

Sae rolls his eyes. That was true for most people, but definitely not for you.

He liked you from the get-go, like there was a gravitational pull towards you that he just couldn't escape from.

The day continues like that.  

You don’t take him to the usual tourist spots—the grand plazas or famous museums. Instead, you show him the Madrid you love.  

A tucked-away bookstore where the owner lets you sit and read for hours without buying anything. A tiny family-run tapas bar where the food is cheap but incredible, and the owners greet you like family. A rooftop spot where you swear the sunset looks better than anywhere else in the city.  

Everywhere you go, you introduce him like he belongs there.  

By the time the sky turns golden, Sae realizes something.  

This isn’t just a city to you. It’s a home.  

And for the first time since moving here, Madrid doesn’t feel so unfamiliar to him anymore.  

Maybe it’s because he’s finally seeing it through your eyes.

And maybe that so-called puppy love Rin kept telling him about is beginning to grow into something more.

a/n: "Puppy Love" is the one and only beloved Sae Itoshi fanfic franchise that will remain untouched by despair. I wholeheartedly believe that at some point during his four years in Spain, Sae had his dreams crushed and utterly heartbroken. But in this au? nah. no angst, no career-crushing disappointments, Just endless, tooth-rotting fluff and relationship bliss. The kind of soft, sweet moments Sae would never admit he enjoys. Because for once, he deserves to have something go perfectly right.

[prettygirl-gabi]

If you'd ask me why I like Paige bueckers I'd say it's cause she pretty and tall...

But...If you asked me on a deeper level from my perspective, I’d tell you it’s because Paige Bueckers is more than just a great basketball player—she’s a competitor in every sense of the word.

It’s the way she carries herself on and off the court. The way she leads, not just with her words but with her actions. She’s been through injuries, setbacks, and doubts, but she always comes back stronger, like she refuses to let anything define her except her own determination.

I’d tell you it’s the way she plays—so smooth, so smart, so effortless. She makes the game look easy, but you know behind it is years of hard work, hours in the gym, a fire that never goes out. She sees the game differently, like a step ahead of everyone else, and it’s mesmerizing to watch.

It’s her confidence, too—not cocky, just assured. Like she knows exactly who she is and what she brings to the table. And then there’s the way she interacts with her teammates, the way she hypes them up, takes responsibility when things go wrong, and lifts them when they need it.

And maybe, beyond all that, it’s the way she makes people believe in something. Whether it’s in women’s basketball, in her, or in the idea that no matter how many times life knocks you down, you can always get back up.

Paige is passionate about her craft. To me she's like a firefly or the North star guiding a way. She's helped me stay afloat in my darkest moments, yet she doesn't even know it. I know that there is a day where she will have to say goodbye to UConn, but it won't be the last of her and her craft. She's someone who is selfless. Caring. Gentle. Understanding. Driven. Passionate. True to herself.

So yeah, she’s pretty and tall. But if you asked me why I like Paige Bueckers? I’d tell you it’s because she’s a fighter. And that’s something worth admiring.

[yangjungwonisms]

It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to-YJW

warnings: NSFW| MDNI 18+(she’s kind of filthy lmaooo pls lord forgive me for daddy kink won I went feral)

(I was a little late getting this one written, I haven’t fully proofed it, sorry if it’s a mess)

For as long as you had known him, Jungwon was stressed. With all of the things he had to do every single day anyone would be stressed. Still this last year had been exhausting for him, he was constantly on the go and never had time for himself. So when his birthday had finally rolled around and he had the entire day to himself you started scheming. You were determined to make this day special for your boyfriend. You had wracked your brain for months on what to plan for him when it finally dawned on him, you were going to give him anything he asked for. Anything at all that he wanted to do for his birthday you would do for him. Anything at all. You had to admit you were a little excited.

You woke up hours before he did, waiting patiently for him to wake up. You were so excited you were bouncing off the walls. Just when you were starting to get restless he started to stir. The minute he came to he reached out for you, letting out a little whine when he realised you were gone. He sat up, sleep still present in his eyes when he notices you sitting near the foot of the bed. “Baby, it’s mean to deprive the birthday boy of his cuddles”. He had begun making grabby hands at you in an effort to pull you back onto the bed with him. “Sorry baby, let me make it up to you”. Pushing him back down on the bed and moving to straddle him you begin peppering kisses all over his face. You don’t stop until he’s doubled over gasping for breath between each laugh. Finally you relented pulling away from him. “You missed one baby”. Before you could ask him what he meant he had pulled you into him kissing you. It was a sweet little kiss that didn’t last very long but nice nonetheless. “Happy Birthday baby boy”. His response was a shy smile, while trying to hide his face in your shoulder. He mumbled out something you couldn’t quite make out. “what was that baby”? Pulling his face out of your neck he finally looks you in the eyes “thank you baby”.

You let him pull you into a hug so now you were just laying on top of him in a peaceful moment of silence. “What do you want to do for your birthday baby”? You watched him sit there and think about it before answering with “just wanna be with you baby. Don’t need anything else”. Now was the perfect time for you to let him know what you had planned for him. “We can do anything you want today”. You stop for a second enunciating the next line “Anything. At. All”. His eyebrows shot up at that. “Oh, anything? What does “anything” mean”? You take the opportunity to move forward to whisper in his ear. “That’s up to you baby”. You felt his body stiffen beneath you as well as the tips of his ears turning red. His obvious tell that he’s turned on. “I’ll do anything you want today baby. Just name it”. You can tell he’s deep in thought trying to figure out where to start, then you see the lightbulb go off in his head. He moves his hands to your hips gently running the tips of his fingers up and down your sides until they settle at the hem of your shirt, tugging at it ever so slightly. You get the hint and pull your shirt over your head. Then he moves his hands back to your hips, moving them ever so slightly so you’re grinding back and forth on him. You continue your movements for a few minutes until you can feel him hard underneath you. His grunts are becoming more frequent with every move of your hips against him. He’s extra sensitive in the morning which you’re using to your advantage. But you know how quickly he gets worked up in the morning, so you go to stop not wanting to make him finish too quickly. Except when you stopped he shot you a look that you couldn’t quite make out. “Did I tell you to stop? Keep going, make me cum in my pants”. This was new to you, he wasn’t normally keen on cumming in his pants but if this was what he wanted to do then far be it for you to deny him.

Before continuing grinding on top of him you remove your panties so now you’re just grinding your bare pussy on top of his clothed cock. He moans out when he sees you grind down onto him, eyes nearly popping out of his head when he sees the wet stain you’re leaving on his sweats. “Oh fuck yeah baby, keep grinding on my cock like a good girl”. Hearing him talk to you like that only made you want to work harder to get him off. You were rewarded instantly when his face scrunched up in pleasure and his hips started to rock up into yours. All it took was a few more thrusts on his end before he was holding onto your hips with a bruising grip while cumming in his pants. After he’s finished you go to get up off of him so he can clean himself up. Except, before you can move away from him he’s grabbed your wrist holding you in place while his other hand works to move his sweats down just enough to free his cock. It’s then you can see just how much of a mess he has made for you. Raising his eyebrow at you almost in challenge he says “and you’ll do anything I want right baby”? You give him a sweet look and smile, nodding your head. “Hmm that’s my good girl”. With his eyes he gestures in between his legs where minutes ago he was cumming in his pants merely from dry humping. “Be a good girl and clean this up for me hmm”? He had never asked you to do this for him before but you knew he was having fun with his freedom.

Not wanting to keep the birthday boy waiting, you immediately get to work cleaning him up. Using your mouth you lick up the cum on him slowly making him hard again in the process, deciding then to lick a stripe up his semi hard cock, stopping at the tip sucking it into your mouth as if it were a lollipop. You suspect that was the point behind you doing this in the first place. The entire time you were down there he was running his hands through your hair in a soothing manner, almost as if he was thanking you silently for doing this. He’s silent for a few minutes simply admiring the view in front of him. “Suck on it baby”. He urged from above you,gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail while pushing you further down his cock until your nose is flush with his pubic hair. Like he always does he gives you a few seconds to get used to the size of him in your mouth. Once you had grown accustomed to his size you give him a brief nod before he started fucking your mouth. As usual, once your mouth came into play he lost all control of his movements. Any other day he’d fuck your mouth nice and slow, really taking his time with you. But today, no he hadn’t been able to have you in weeks due to his busy schedule, so today you were gonna take it however he wanted to give it. He set a rather fast pace fucking in and out of your mouth, any other noise in the room was drowned out by the whiny moans he was letting out. Just as he was about to finish he pulled you off of him. “Fuck baby girl, good job. Always taking me like a pro, so fucking proud of you”. You look at him with a shy expression on your face, anytime he praises you; you only wanted to submit to him more. “Don’t get shy on me now baby, come here, it’s your turn”. You look at him shaking your head “baby no, it’s your birthday, it’s all about you”. Before you could continue your ministrations on his cock he had flipped you around to where you were sitting in his lap. “You said it yourself baby, what we do is my choice. I wanna play with you baby. Wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel. You want that don’t you? You want daddy to make you feel good right kitten”? Your face heated up in a blush as soon as you heard the words “daddy”. Jungwon had literally never called himself that before so hearing him say it so out of the blue threw you off, but it also turned you on to no end.

Jungwon himself hadn’t intended to say it, but it just slipped out of his mouth. “No way, you liked that huh baby? You like when daddy talks like that”? You’re far too embarrassed at this point to answer, but Jungwon doesn’t take too kind to that. He grabs your face a tad rougher than he normally does forcing you to look at him. “how many times have I told you to answer me when I ask you a fucking question baby”? You can feel yourself slipping further into your sub space with every passing second. “Sorry daddy, didn’t mean to make you mad”. Now that you had called him daddy with your own words he knew there was no way you two were ever going to go without saying it again. Jungwon’s expression softened ever so slightly when he responds “oh that’s okay baby, I’m not angry. Just wanna play with you, can I”? You knew any semblance of control you thought you had before was long gone. “Yes please”. His response was to lean in and suck a hickey onto the skin of your neck, one that would prove hard to cover up later. Once he’s gotten you settled into his lap, he pulls your legs open, so they’re falling on either side of his body. “Need you to be good for me yeah? Can’t cum until I say so baby, daddy’s gonna be a little mean today, gonna make you work for it. Need to make you cry for me baby, but I promise I’ll make it up to you later”.

Your body shook at the mere thought of the pleasure he was about to give you. But you knew when he got like this, it meant that you would not be cumming anytime soon. When he was like this, he pulled you to the edge dozens of times, only letting you finish once you’re a crying mess, unable to say anything but his name. He knew it was dangerous doing this so early in the morning especially with the whole day ahead of him, but he didn’t give a fuck right now ,not when he had you looking so pretty and wet for him. You thought that’s what you in for today for sure, instead what he did was push you through orgasm after orgasm. He didn’t stop until you were near the point of collapse, unable to say anything other than his name. But when he had finally relented and pulled what you could only surmise was now a double digit count of orgasms out of you he doted on you the rest of the afternoon. You’d think it was your birthday the way he was spoiling you. He was always this way after you two were intimate, it was his way of showing how much he loved you and that he was grateful for you. You still remember the first time you two had sex when he brought you flowers the next day to thank you. Sometimes after an especially emotional session he still does.

Once you’ve managed to calm down and recover Jungwon surprised you with a nice bath. He wasn’t originally going to join you but one look at you with the pout on your face immediately changed his mind. You don’t do anything but enjoy each others presence, the whole ordeal is amazing and even though it wasn’t anything special by his standards you still felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Just as you two are about to get out and dry off, you speak briefly about dinner plans. Jungwon decided that for his birthday dinner he simply wanted to order in and spend time with you. But before you can break apart from him to go get dressed he pulls you into him one more time leaning in pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. “You feeling okay baby”? You return his kiss, leaning in to peck him on the lips before answering “feeling on top of the world won”. He seemed to be pleased by your answer, taking a second to kiss you before responding. “Good baby. I’m not done with you yet. Gonna fuck you so hard later”. Your face going slightly red from the promise of what’s to come, all you can do is hope you’re able to take what he gives you.

Jungwon swore up and down to anyone who asked him that this was his best birthday yet. When they ask him what all you two did, he won’t answer just rambling off a brief excuse. He promised you after the fact that when your birthday arrived in a few weeks after his that he was going to reward you for being so good to him.

[bybobbysbeard]

Changes to the Layout

Day 9 for @bucktommyfluffebruary: moving in together read on ao3 read other days here

Tommy straightens up from his lean, rolling his neck until it cracks with a satisfying pop. He looks down at the graph paper in front of him. Another line sketched here, a shelf added there, one more cabinet drawn in. The scritch-scratch of graphite on paper is the only sound in the kitchen. 

If he gets bench seating for the far side of the dining table, he can move the whole thing closer to the wall. That will give him the square footage he needs to fit a pair of bar stools under the island overhang. He eyeballs the rough layout, thinking about egress routes, the existing water lines and junction boxes. He adds those to the drawing too. There’s still a lot of details to be determined, but that’s kind of the point of this whole exercise. 

He puts his pencil down as he hears the garage rumble open.

A few minutes later, Evan enters the house through the man door, toeing off his sneakers, and already talking a mile a minute. His overnight bag lands in the foyer with a thud. Evan fills the previously quiet house with chatter, spilling every thought that crosses his big, beautiful brain. Tommy lets that beloved voice wrap around him like a security blanket. He’s so open and welcoming, inviting Tommy to experience life with him without a second thought.

Tommy’s never met anyone like him.

He gets a rundown of today's calls, the incomprehensible memes Chris sent, and Evan’s thoughts on a Smithsonian article about one of the lost Lewis Chessmen he read over lunch. It’s a data dump of the best variety. Tommy knows he’s probably got a dumb smile on his face. 

“—and it’s the first of the missing pieces to show up, so that means there’s a chance the other four are out there! Isn’t that cool?”

“Very cool, sweetheart.”

Evan finally steps close, pressing a quick kiss to his lips and plastering himself along Tommy’s side. One of his arms wraps around Tommy’s waist, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. He looks down at the papers on the counter. “What’s this? Got a new project?”

Tommy takes a controlled breath. He rests a hand casually on his own thigh, over his pocket. He can feel the little metal shape through the denim. “Sort of.” He slides the sketch over to Evan. “What do you think?”

Evan flips through the pages, humming thoughtfully. “You want to renovate the kitchen? Wow. Would be a big job, but you've got the space. This layout looks great.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“It’s been a while since I did construction work, but I could help with the tear out if you need.” Evan looks up and down from the sketch to the existing cabinets, already imagining the new setup. 

“I was hoping you’d be interested in doing a little more than just demolition.” 

Evan tilts his head, adorably confused. “What do you mean?”

Tommy’s fingers clench on his leg. “Well this is just the basics. There’s a lot of decisions to be made. Materials, styles, colors. I’m hoping you’ll choose them.”

“M-me? Why would I make the decisions?”

“Because. I want this to be your kitchen, Evan.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls the key out, and sets it down on the counter with a quiet sound. “Move in with me.”

Evan jerks back in shock. Tommy’s waist feels cold without his arm. Wide blue eyes dart down to the key and Tommy sees his hand clench, like he wants to reach out and grab it. Maybe throw it across the room. 

Tommy knows the damage he did to their relationship the last time this conversation came up. But it’s been five months since they reconciled, and they’re different. Better. More authentic with each other. He wanted to talk about this before they hit half a year again, when there was less pressure for a repeat of last time. He’s been more honest with Evan than he’s ever been in his entire life. About his fears, his guilt, his shame. Evan loves him anyway; so Tommy is learning how to stay. In turn, Evan is learning how to slow down, and how to talk about the things that send him spiraling. 

It’s been good. Great, even. The best relationship he’s ever had, even when it’s difficult. 

“I love you. I want you here all the time. I want to make a home with you. And before the voice in your head tries to convince you otherwise: you’re never too much for me, I won’t get sick of you, and if you want to say no, or you need time to think, that’s fine and I won’t be mad.”

“I… I’m not…” He’s still staring at the key. 

Tommy nudges it towards him. “I know you already have the garage code, but I want you to have this too. No matter what you decide.” A shaky hand reaches out and lays on top of the key.

Evan finally looks up. His eyes are big and shiny. Tommy holds the eye contact. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He smiles helplessly. “Also, I’m tired of tripping over your overnight bag every morning.”

“Rude.” Evan snorts. “You’re the one who told me to keep it by the closet.” His hand curls around the key.

Tommy reaches out, reeling Evan in and tucking him close. “It’s okay if you’re not ready. We’re going at our pace now. Or we can talk about it some more. But I figured it was my turn to ask.” 

“Yes.”

Tommy lifts a quizzical eyebrow. “Yes, it was my turn to ask, or yes, you’ll move in with me?” 

Evan chortles, a sweet little sound, and presses into Tommy's side. “Both! But mostly the second one. Why be apart when we can be together, right?” His hand lands on Tommy’s jaw, and then they’re kissing, sweet and hot. Tommy pivots, pulling Evan in front, pinning him against the countertop, and kissing the breath out of lungs. His hands find bare skin and he’s busy tracing the waistband of Evan’s jeans when his boyfriend pulls away. 

“Hold on, just for a minute. There is something I want to talk about. And before your brain gremlins get involved: I’m not changing my mind, I don’t need more time to think about it, and I love you more than anything. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now, onto the thing we actually need to discuss. If this is going to be my kitchen, I have a few proposed changes to your layout. For starters, I can’t go back to a single oven, so double wall ovens are a necessity. I think it could go here.” He scribbles two rough squares where Tommy had the pantry going. “And have you seen those ceiling mounted exhaust fans? I think there would be space on your island but I’d have to do some research on different models. That would free up this section for the coffee bar.”

“Coffee bar?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve always wanted one.”

[ivyues]

Chasing Yesterday | 4 | - Bang Chan

Bang Chan x lost connection trainee friend

Years after splitting paths, Bang Chan didn't expect a simple text to bring an old friend – and old feelings – back into his life.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Chris showed up at your apartment, hoodie pulled over his messy curls, a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. His smile was a little sheepish, but his eyes – warm and bright despite the late hour – held that familiar glimmer of excitement.

“You really don’t get tired of me, do you?” you teased, stepping aside to let him in.

He smirked, toeing off his sneakers before stepping inside. “I think we’ve established that already. You’re the one who lets me in every time.”

You rolled your eyes, closing the door behind him. “Only because I know you’ll just sit outside like an abandoned puppy and text me until I give in.”

Chris chuckled as he made his way to the couch, dropping his bag onto the coffee table. “Guilty as charged. But, to be fair, this song still needs some magic.”

You crossed your arms, watching as he settled in, his usual studio determination already setting in.

“So, I’m the magic now?”

He glanced up at you, his expression softening just a little. “Yeah,” he said, as if the thought had only just dawned on him. “You kind of are.”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. He didn’t even seem to realize what he’d just admitted – he was already booting up his laptop, fingers drumming absently on the keyboard. But the words lingered in the space between you, making your heart stumble a little in its rhythm.

Clearing your throat, you walked over and plopped onto the couch beside him, feigning nonchalance as you laid your chin on his shoulder. “Alright, let’s see this masterpiece in progress.”

He pulled up the track, the familiar melody spilling softly through your speakers. It had evolved since the last time you heard it. It felt fuller, richer, but still had space to grow.

Chris glanced at you, watching your expression. “What do you think?”

“It’s getting there.” You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink in. “What made you change the chorus to make it so dramatic?”

He exhaled slowly, tilting his head as he thought. “It’s about... longing. That moment when you realize something's become a part of your life in a way you never expected. And now, you don’t want to imagine it without it.”

Your heart did a ridiculous little flip at his words, especially with the way he looked at you as he said them – like maybe this wasn’t just about the song.

You held his gaze, pulse thrumming in your ears. “Sounds personal.”

Chris gave a small, almost shy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe.”

You smirked. “What's the lucky muse? Or who?"

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he turned towards his laptop, but not before you caught the slight flush creeping up his neck. “You’re impossible.”

“Am I wrong?” you pressed.

He sighed dramatically. “Do you want to work on this song or interrogate me?”

You grinned. “Can’t we do both?”

Chris groaned, throwing his head back against the couch, but he was smiling. “Unbelievable.”

For a moment, you just sat there, the playful tension hanging between you. Then, without really thinking, you reached out, brushing a stray curl from his forehead.

He froze, eyes flickering to yours, his breath catching ever so slightly.

Your fingers lingered just a second longer before you pulled back, suddenly aware of how close you were. His eyes hadn’t left your face, and in the quiet that followed, the atmosphere shifted – something softer, something heavier settling between you.

“You always do that,” he murmured.

You blinked. “Do what?”

“Mess with my head,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “Make me forget what I was doing.”

Your lips parted slightly, your own thoughts scattering at the weight in his gaze. “That’s not my fault,” you murmured. “You’re the one staring at me like that.”

His lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Like what?”

“Like I’m the song you’ve been trying to finish.”

The air between you crackled, the space between you disappearing as he leaned in slightly. His hand came up, fingers brushing against your cheek.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t hesitant this time – not a question, but an answer. His lips met yours with quiet certainty, warm and lingering. You melted into him instantly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as you pulled him closer.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, lost in the soft pull of lips and the warmth of his touch.

Eventually, you broke away, breathless but grinning, and pointed to the laptop. “Come on, we should actually work on this song before you distract me again.”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Pretty sure that’s reversed.”

You rolled your eyes but grabbed the headphones and microphone anyway. “Fine. Then let me do the demo for the lyrics I've written.”

Chris leaned back as you scrolled through the track. The melody played softly, and without thinking too much, you hummed along before softly starting to sing.

As soon as your voice filled the space, Chris went completely still.

You didn’t notice at first – you were too lost in the music, in the way the lyrics felt right now that they were being sung instead of just written. But when you finished, you glanced over at him, only to find him staring at you like you had just rewritten the laws of physics.

“What?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

His voice came out almost breathless. “I haven’t heard you sing since we were trainees.”

You blinked. “Oh. Yeah, I guess it’s been a while.”

His gaze softened as he slowly shook his head. “Your voice… it’s changed. It’s so much fuller now. You’ve grown into it.” His words hung in the air for a moment, and there was a quiet awe in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. "It’s... beautiful."

The weight of his compliment settled in your chest, making you feel lighter, like a piece of yourself you hadn’t realized was missing had just been found. You couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by the warmth in his eyes.

He leaned forward, his lips finding yours again, in a slow, tender kiss that felt like a quiet promise. There was no rush, no pushing – it was just him and you. Your breath caught in your throat as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and without thinking, you moved to straddle his lap.

His arms instantly wrapped around you, hands resting at the small of your back, holding you securely as the kiss deepened. You couldn’t remember when it happened, but somehow the distance between you had melted away, your bodies pressed together as the warmth of his hands on your skin made everything else fade into the background.

Chris broke the kiss with a soft gasp, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your skin. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, full of raw emotion.

You smiled softly, fingers tracing the outline of his jaw.

He tilted his head, kissing you again, but this time there was something a little more desperate in it, something more urgent. You responded in kind, letting your hands slide to the back of his neck, tugging him closer as his lips moved against yours. You both fit together like this – entwined in a way that felt natural, as if it had been meant to be from the very beginning.

The track continued to softly play in the background, but neither of you paid attention anymore. The only sound was the soft shuffle of your movements as you clung to each other, the heat between you rising with each kiss.

Chris pulled back slightly, eyes dark with longing.

The next kiss was slow, deliberate, his lips moving with careful intention as his hands slid up your back, fingers tracing the line of your spine. You could feel the muscles in his arms tense as he held you, pulling you impossibly closer, until your chest was pressed against his. His heart beat in rhythm with yours, and the proximity felt dizzying.

You leaned back slightly, giving him a mischievous look. “You know, we should probably focus on the song, right?”

But the words came out teasingly, because the way he was looking at you – his eyes half-lidded, his mouth swollen from your kisses – made you not care about anything else.

Chris chuckled softly, his hands roaming to your hips, squeezing gently as he pulled you back in, lips brushing against yours. “The song can wait.”

The night stretched on in a comfortable haze of whispered conversations and lingering kisses, and before you knew it, the hour of the night had turned late. The soft glow of the room felt serene, but Chris let out a slow stretch before glancing at the time on his phone.

"Wow, it's really late," he said, voice low, almost in disbelief.

Eventually, exhaustion settled over both of you, and the pull of sleep became impossible to resist.

“Do you want to just stay over?” you asked hesitantly, glancing at him.

Chris looked at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he gave you a soft smile. “I mean I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything—”

You shook your head, a quiet laugh escaping your lips. “Chris, we’ve known each other for like 13 years. Why would I lie about something like that?” 

-----

When morning arrived, it did so gently. The first golden rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting soft patterns across the room. You stirred slightly, the weight of Chan’s arm draped securely over your waist. His breathing was deep and even, his face relaxed in a way you rarely got to see. The sight made your heart ache in the best way.

You shifted slightly, brushing a hand through his curls as he blinked awake. His arms instinctively tightened around you, pulling you even closer. He nuzzled into your hair, pressing a lazy kiss against your temple before murmuring, his voice a few tones deeper than normally, “Morning.”

“Morning,” you replied softly, tracing small patterns on his back with your fingertips. The warmth of his body against yours made you feel safe, like you belonged there.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, exchanging sleepy kisses and enjoying the quiet before the world fully woke up. Chris’ hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he exhaled a content sigh.

Then, after a moment of hesitation, he spoke. “Did you… like me back then? When we were trainees?”

The question made you pause. You felt his gaze on you, waiting, his grip on your hand just a little tighter.

You swallowed, glancing away as you thought about it. “I didn’t,” you admitted softly, watching his expression carefully. “Not like that.”

The silence stretched between you, and when you finally dared to look back at him, his expression had changed. A soft laugh left his lips, almost in disbelief. 

“Wait a minute… you liked me back then?” Your eyes widened slightly. “Wait—” You sat up slightly, propping yourself on your elbow as you stared at him. “You liked me back then?”

Chris ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head with an almost bashful smile. “I thought I was being obvious.”

You let out a breathless laugh, lightly shoving his shoulder. “You were not.”

“I was!” he insisted, laughing as he pulled you back down beside him. “I thought about you all the time. You were my best friend, but it was more than that. I just… didn’t think you felt the same way.”

Your heart clenched at the realization. “I didn’t know…”

Chris’ brows lifted slightly, but there was no hurt in his eyes. If anything, there was a quiet understanding, like he had already figured as much. “Yeah,” he murmured.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling the need to explain. “It wasn’t because of you—I mean, I thought you were amazing. But back then, I wasn’t looking at anyone like that. I was so focused on training, on proving myself… I didn’t even let myself consider it.”

Chris nodded slowly, his fingers absently tracing circles on the back of your hand. "Yeah, I get that. We were all just trying to survive back then. It was… a lot."

You exhaled, relieved that he understood. "It really was." You tilted your head slightly, watching his expression shift between nostalgia and something softer. "But if I had known… I think things might have been different."

He smiled, though it carried a hint of wistfulness. "Maybe. Or maybe we needed to go through all of that first. To grow into the people we are now."

You considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Maybe."

Silence settled between you again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like the final piece of an old puzzle slipping into place. A long-buried truth finally uncovered, but without regret – just understanding.

Chris suddenly squeezed your hand and grinned. "Still, if I had just confessed back then, maybe we could've had more time together."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Or maybe we would've been an absolute mess."

He gasped dramatically. "Are you saying we would’ve been bad together?"

"I’m saying we might have been too dumb to figure it out properly."

Chris chuckled, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. "Fair point. I was definitely a little dumb back then."

You propped yourself up on your elbow again, looking down at him. "You’re still a little dumb."

"Excuse me?" His mouth fell open, pretennding to be offended as you leaned in to silence him with a kiss.

pt.5 | masterlist

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Desperately gripping on and trying to resist the urge to abandon this blog entirely !

[came0dust]

i cannot keep drawing this dude on my phone but god do i love drawing him (+ bonus colors)

[girlivealwaysbean]

my sister called me and kept asking excitedly that what's happening in my life and

[lovinggreeniehours]

you know what i severely underestimated how actually fucked up renachrome is in arc 1. of course them being friends is a good thing but actually oh my god. what the fuck is wrong with them

[kisssukuna33]

HusbandSukuna! Who's never been the one to understand today's relationships. 50/50? No, his woman will never touch a single bill with her delicate fingers as long as he's alive and well.

HusbandSukuna! Who never understood the whole "giving your relationship time before proposing" thing. You aren't a real man if you drag out your relationship and take what you have for granted, Atleast that must have been what he was thinking when he put a big rock on your finger after dating for only 7 months.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes his role as your fiancé VERY seriously. He asked you to move in with him just right after he proposed. He does everything he can to make sure you feel comfortable in his house. He even went as far to renovate half of the house to your liking despite your much protesting that it's not needed.

HusbandSukuna! Who checks everyday to see if you are wearing the ring he put on you. it almost become a habbit for him to kiss the ring in your finger every single morning. Not just in the morning, whenever you two hangout in the public he intentionally kisses it to give other people the signal that his girl is strictly taken.

HusbandSukuna! Who wants to get married as soon as possible but he respect your time and choices. He doesn't want you to get overwhelmed by this at all, so he waits patiently ( had to restraint himself from asking like 5 times)

HusbandSukuna! Who gets so freaking happy when you finally confront him about being ready for marriage. The moment those words slip from your mouth his hands instantly go to your waist to pull you closer, closer till your foreheads are touching, He places a warm kiss on your temple and the next thing you hear makes your heart warm and fuzzy.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me, I promise to be the best husband and I swear on my life I will take care of you and protect you till I die, I love you"

HusbandSukuna! Who jumps straight into the wedding planning. He hears from his married friends how stressful wedding planning was to them and he determines to not make you experience any bit of the stress, He tries everything in his power to make things go smooth as possible.

HusbandSukuna! Who breakdown in tears the moment he saw you walking the aisle to everyone's shock. The grumpy tatted 6'4 scary big guy who has given them nothing but attitude crying over seeing the love of his life walking down aisle? Who would have thought.

HusbandSukuna! Who immediately intertwine your fingers with his as he looks into your eyes like he sees nothing but the whole world in them and wait no minute to whisper "The prettiest, mine"

HusbandSukuna! who finally breaks free from his staring as the wedding officiant clears his throat to let him know that there's a whole wedding left to finish.

Everyone expect him to do a short vow and get done with it. Sukuna isn't known as the most expressive guy after all, but to everyone's surprise the vow lasted whole 15 minutes!! It was filled with nothing but love and appreciation for you and the little grin plastered in his mouth at the end of the vow makes it obvious how proud he was of himself ( I mean practicing this costed him a years worth friend too, after he suggested Sukuna to add some dirty degrading sex joke about you in the vows he ended up punching the guy as a result, so hell yeah he's proud of this!)

HusbandSukuna! Who keeps the honeymoon destination as a surprise till last minute, and your heart fills with joy as you realize he took you back to the beach you two first met, a place special to you both.

He booked the hotel room with the best view to the beach as expected.

HusbandSukuna! Who's heart feel warm all of a sudden, it's only a year ago he believed himself to be someone who's unable to be loved. Oh how much have changed since then.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes your hand and drags you to the balcony for a dance.

The smell of the beach, evening lightening, sounds of the ocean..All adds to the atmosphere as you two get lost in yourselves.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes a glance at the beach and sees a young family, not much older than both of you playing in the sand with their little girl.

HusbandSukuna! Who has a small smile tugged at his lips as he mentally promises to himself that he will return here again after you two finally complete your own little family.

No grammar checks, forgive me I'm too lazy

What do we think about part 2?

[ttsukiimi]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ F⍣CK HER ‘TILL SHE SORE!

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ He’s not addicted to your cũnt—he swears. He swears even as he’s forced the fourth ōrgasm out of you tonight; and there’s more to come.

★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, choso x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, smut (mdni), tit play, multiple örgasms, size difference (choso), slight còckwarming (nanami), reader referred to as (princess, baby, doll, good girl)

✧･ﾟ𝓖. 𝓢 ✧･ﾟ

Gojo didn’t even know how he even initially found himself inside you—it was like one second he was cuddling closer to you as his eyes glued to the tv, then another your leg was hoisted over his waist as he jerked his hips into you repeatedly. Was it his fault? Had he begged you to let him put just the tip in? Yes.

But you had given in, and that in its own was your mistake.

“Stay still, princess, wanna give it to you good,” he whispered in your ear, the way his shaky breath fanned past your neck causing goosebumps to bloom on your skin. You nodded, though it wasn’t a promise, and tried to take each passionate thrust of his girth he gave to you.

You were clutching the couch pillow for dear life, whining as you felt euphoria rock through you so pleasurably for the umpteenth time that night. The movie playing had long been forgotten—only serving as background noise, and to Satoru a nuisance since the sounds drowned out your heavenly moans.

He huffed into the skin of your neck, determined to now make you louder, and a hot slap landed on your left cheek, effectively coaxing a loud yelp from your lips. “Mh—!”

And you were sensitive by then, his seed dripping from your battered cunt, your body shivering and thighs quivering, but even then he was set on urging one last orgasm out of you.

Or two.

Hell, he couldn’t even promise it wouldn’t be three. But he just needed to stay inside of you.

Satoru’s hands came up from behind you before they latched onto your chest, groping your tits as he muttered lewd words in your ear.

“You like when I fucking play with these pretty tits, hm?” He kissed your shoulder, and you felt a smile form against your skin as the only thing you could let out was a weak whine—too drunk on his dick to speak. Satoru groaned at the sound, his lips finding your pulse point as he spoke.

“Always so dumb once I get inside you,”

✧･ﾟ𝓒.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Choso doesn’t have an exact idea of why he loves being buried inside you so much; perhaps it’s the way you sound, the way you feel, or the way you look—tears in your eyes and all—but he does know that he’d die happy if that meant he was inside you in his last moments.

And he absolutely adores every minute that he is.

Because with how much your greedy cunt is pulsing around him, and your manicured nails are scratching red lines down his back, Choso thinks he’s really found heaven. Right between your legs.

“Baby, slow down, Cho,” you whined, your sight obscured with tears though you could still make out the image of his sculpted body over yours, and he’s so big compared to you.

Sometimes he might forget that—but could you blame him though? Anyone would forget about some mere size difference when inside your addictive pussy, and he proved to be that anyone.

Choso leaned forward, and in the process his hair fell forward, framing both yours and his face. His hands ventured up your body and found their place on your chest, squeezing the meleable flesh.

“‘S okay, you can take it,” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, uncaring of the slight drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. With each thrust the course hairs at his base tickled your clit, stimulating you in a way that felt so good your whole body was quivering with pleasure.

“Just..one more, baby,”

✧･ﾟ𝓝.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Sometimes Nanami finds himself wondering just what you do to him, how you’ve changed him in ways he couldn’t himself in the past years you’ve been together. He can't help but smile when he sees your infectious smile, and he melts when he hears your sweet laugh.

But, above all, you've created an addiction in him. One that he seems to think about every waking moment; even at work, and that’s new territory for him.

What’s worse is that you know. Always teasing him about how pussy drunk he is, how he’d really do anything just to be inside you—not like he’s denying that—but he can’t retaliate with the way the tips of his ears burn pink. So, he’ll prove it.

“Kento, what’re you—“ you cut yourself off with an uneven breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head in tandem with the way he pushes himself into you.

His strong arms are wrapped around you, keeping you in place, but he strangely doesn’t begin to move. The reason being—well, he’s testing himself. His resolve, his patience by not moving a single inch, even while being compressed by your tight warmth.

Which is proving to be a challenge already for Nanami.

“Proving to you that ‘m not—“ he halts, groaning and gritting his teeth as you slightly shift, causing a grin to flourish on your face.

“That you’re not what?” you retort, pushing your hips back onto him, taking him in deeper than he already was. Your hand reaches back and caresses his face, cooing above his lips. “Know you wanna move. ‘M not stopping you either, ken.”

You’re so close to his lips Nanami could move an inch and they’d touch, but he won’t, of course. But…when you’re fucking yourself on his cock, moaning out for him to hear, to tease him, Nanami thinks maybe there isn’t anything to prove.

Maybe he is drunk on your pussy.

✧･ﾟ𝓣.𝓕✧･ﾟ

Toji knows of his slight compulsion towards your pussy. His tendency to always want to be inside is truly something that needs to be studied—because there’s absolutely no way his sex drive should be this significant.

Admittedly, he is aware of his addiction, but will he take any action to try to change his behavior? No. That then becomes your problem to tackle, but you have the perfect solution.

“A what?” Toji mumbled, licking the scar on his lip as he creased an eyebrow upwards in confusion. You were sat on his lap, your arms looped around his neck and you began to speak.

“A Sex ban, Toji.” you attempted to suppress your grin when you saw the confusion on his face only deepen, and a big hand came to cup your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“‘M not for all your little games today, doll. Got a mission tomorrow and y’know what that means.” he sighed, his free hand holding your waist, slowly sliding to the waistband of your shorts and beginning to pull them down.

“But, really baby, we—you need a break.” you protested, but just couldn’t counter back with the way his rough and thick fingers were already playing with your folds, gathering your essence.

Quickly, his lips were on yours and that shut you up, which gave him time to free himself from his sweats and enter you in one, swift motion.

He wasted no time in holding your hips and bouncing you up and down on his cock, a smug smirk on his lips as he looked at the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You weren’t one to talk about a sex ban when you could hardly even let him go on a mission for more than 2 days without complaining about how much you missed him and his magic dick.

“Now ya just be quiet and take what I give you, yeah?” he breathed in your ear as his big hands groped your tits, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. The pleasure coursed throughout your body so deliciously, already causing your thighs to begin quivering and your pussy pulsed around him, greedy to suck him dry.

“Good girl,”

[bunny-jpeg]

retired!price liked that you had daddy issues. aw, did someone not have a functioning relationship with their father as a child and now has to find that relationship in older men? aw, poor doll. price was more than okay with being called 'daddy' as long as you called him 'captain' too, especially when you were on your knees. while you got off to having an older man praise you, he got off to a pretty little thing calling him captain. you even went as far as to worship his strong physic, how easily he could bend, flip, turn and press into you.

didn't help that your pussy became a fixation for him.

he was close to fifty, his hip had a habit of locking from time to time. he had been hearing about it for years that it was time to have a family. even simon had managed to make a family, price was still hung up on young tail that he could bully his fat cock into. while most younger women were flavours of the week with no string attached. price made sure to attach every metaphorical string onto you. he had a copy of your apartment key. he added a profile for you on his streaming services. he knew on wednesdays you enjoyed pasta, but hated cooking on the weekend. he knew everything about his precious baby girl. you folded into his praise and always were eager to please. and that was what price loved about you. so imagine his shock (anger) when you told him that you thought you'd have to end your arrangement because you met a guy at your university. and when he asked why, you simply said, "i have to grow up at some point.", and that hit price in the head like an ice pick. if you wanted to grow up so badly, baby girl. there were other ways to do it.

the broken condom held weight in price's pocket while you had few drinks during your last 'date' together, he waited till you got all soft because of the wine. till you were on his side of the booth with your leg over his lap and your face pressed against his bicep. you ran your hand across his chest and giggled, "you're taking this whole break up thing so well." and he petted your head, watching you fold into him further, "like you said, you need to grow up." but you both had different definitions of 'growing up'. for you it meant getting over you daddy issues, but to him it was making him a daddy, for real. you giggled further while he gave you another glass of wine. when you tried to say no, he simply pushed it closer to you, "don't want to waste the bottle." and so easily you were in price's grip.

price took you three times that night. first was in the backseat of his expensive car. he pressed you into a corner, claimed that he needed more space for his larger body. your hazy vision was transfixed on the glimmer of his gold chain against his hairy chest in the low light. your poor body bent in such ways while he pace was relentless. he admired your unsteady gaze and your heavy breathing. he continued to move against you with such a pace that the whole car rocked. but don't worry, the parking lot was dead at that hour. you could scream your head off and no one would hear either of you. he did however put a tear in your panties. right in the crotch area. he sighed and said that he'd need to buy you something a little. while he loved the cheap pairs you owned, he thought his woman deserved something a little nicer. the future mrs. price needed to look next to perfection.

then he fingered you heavily in his bed and watched you squirm. he had to make sure every drop got deep enough before he bullied your sweet pussy once more. he loved the sight of you, still so fucked out from prior. you were in a daze in the car ride home. your breathing was heavy when he pushed the skirt of your dress up a little and teased your cunt while he drove. only to go further once you were naked on his bed. he watched your ass jiggle with each of his power thrusts while he took you from behind. he felt like a mad man while he fucked you. he was determined. he only got to where he was in his career because of grit and determination. he wouldn't back down to a challenge, especially when the stakes were so high. your pussy need to be bred, you needed to be with price. he never wanted to hear anything about another man ever again. price would hate to take drastic measures if another man tried to get in his way. if you needed a collar or a tattoo, the taste of his cum constantly your lips or leaked into your panties, price would do it all to ensure that you were his. the most effective way to ensure that was what kept him going through two rounds of sex without any pains. to get you pregnant. you had already forgotten about the broken condom, it still was in price's pocket! no use using it now, even bother giving the illusion that he wasn't breeding you.

the third time was when you tried to leave the next morning, he had you upside down on the bed. your bottom half on the mattress while all the blood rushed to your head as you tried not to fall on your head. price put bruises on top of bruises. your poor cunt was creamy with promises of the future. a future with him. the blood rush made you cum twice on his cock, adding fresh slick to his coated cock. you thought that older men were supposed to slow down with age. but it felt like price was even quicker than before. his pace brutal, almost like punishment for trying to leave him. but price didn't get to be captain because he followed one plan. he was going to ease you into married life, slowly make you the perfect woman for him. he was traditional that way. church wedding, the white dress, the vows. that would all happen, but might take a little longer. he wasn't too sure that a baby bump would fit nicely in a wedding dress. the thought of you pregnant, trapped to him made him eagerly finish in you two times. and when he got you back up onto the bed, you were fucked out. when you managed to collect your clothes and stagger out of his flat by mid-afternoon, you thought you made it in time to the pharmacy to get emergency plan b.

you prayed, and you never prayed. you promised three versions of 'god' that you'd convert to their religion if the pill worked. but three deities failed you and a month later price was in your apartment with his hands on the plastic pregnancy test. he scratched his beard and looked at you. he tried so hard to put on his best acting face. "that's a real shame, baby girl." he said in that rough voice of his that got you in trouble in the first place. he leaned back a little in your kitchen chair and placed the test back down on the table, "always wanted to be a father." he frowned a little bit, "never got the chance too. they said when i retired that the chances were low of me havin' a baby..." he looked at you. you should've known he was lying. his swimmers obviously weren't shot by how easily you got pregnant. you felt bad, almost like you were burdening him with getting pregnant. that it was your fault. you rung your hands and admitted softly, "we can try... we can make a family." and price smiled, "oh, doll." then got up to embrace you. you sniffled and cried a little in his strong chest. he held you in his strong arms. he was your protector even though his cock was straining in his jeans at the knowledge that he fundamentally changed you.

your body, your life, everything. when he released you from the hug, he got down on his knees. made a point to make a small 'huff' noise from being down on his 'bad' knee before he pushed up your t-shirt and pressed a kiss against your stomach. he said to you, "don't worry, love. daddy'll take care of ya." then gave that smile that wrapped around you like a vice. <3

[taeslarityy]

outage ༄ joel miller one shot (18+)

-> pairing: no-outbreak joel miller au x female curvy reader

-> word count: 4.3k

-> summary: after a citywide power outage, you're left to deal with the scorching texas heat. until, the well-respected neighborhood dilf — joel miller — lends you a more than generous hand.

-> warnings/tags: sarah is 10/11 so joel had her a bit older, power outage, texas heat, yes this is a warning because its not a joke, reader has a cat!!!, age gap (reader is 24, joel is late 40s), curvy/mid/plus size reader, brief fatphobia, reader has self-image/parent issues + is a lonely gal, fluff, SMUT (18+), unprotected piv, creampie, oral + fingering (f!recieving), squirting, body worship, brief ass play, daddy kink, big ole tits, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, a bit of belly bulge, cockwarming, pet names galore (darlin, sweetheart, baby, _ girl), joel has a huge dick (not canon!)

-> a/n: hi hi! i have been so anxious to begin writing again and currently have some wips that i am just not confident with. so when i saw the lovely @hellishjoel post her #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i was positive i wanted to join in! such a pleasure to be involved in this — thank you kylee for creating such a fun way for this community to get involved! as a curvier woman, i wanted reader to reflect that. because... joel miller is a handsy mf and loves to just grab himself some wide hips, thick thighs and phat tits <3 but ofc, this is can be for various body types. please please please, leave your thoughts and even constructive criticism! <3 DILF NEIGHBOR JOEL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

You release a groan of annoyance as the visual of your TV, coffee table lamp and humming of the refrigerator all flicker off into silence. The frills on your throw-blanket settle, as the ceiling fan no longer produces the small gusts of wind that have caused you to be rather chilly on this hot, humid and rainy summer night. 

When you made the courageous decision of moving across the country for a new teaching opportunity in Austin — you were never informed on the true brutality summertime unleashed onto Texas residents. More-so, you really had nothing to do but be caged up in the comfortable AC of your home. You’ve been here for roughly 14 months and the only "friends" you’ve made have been the 28 fourth graders you had the pleasure of teaching last school year. Tragic. 

Your coworkers, did not handle your arrival pleasantly. Young, beautiful, freshly-educated and determined. That’s what your grandmother referred to you as when you called her sobbing after your first week. Informing her that the seasoned teachers won’t even bat an eye at you, and when they do it’s a look of disgust. Whispering amongst one another. Like you were in middle school again, trying to befriend the popular girls. 

“I was foolish to think things could be different for me down here, so stupid of me.”

“Now listen to me, you are the most intelligent woman I know. More than anyone in this family. Bullies like that, it stems from an unknown jealousy and overbearing insecurity. Don’t let a few sour grapes ruin this outstanding career for you. Your students adore you already, and so do I. Just continue to be yourself and if that isn’t enough for them, so be it.”

Your grandmother always knew how to make you feel better. She had been instilling your own sense of confidence since you were a little girl. The only adult in your life to do so. If only her words were enough. Your coworkers just never let up. After overhearing them gossip about you during lunch break, you gave up your attempts indefinitely. 

“She really thinks she deserves a place here?”

“Look at her back rolls in that shirt…”

“She really needs to put that sandwich down.”

“Why is she so quiet? It’s freaky, honestly. No wonder she’s always alone.”

You’re not a stranger to being alone. You practically have been your entire life. Your parents never really bothered to form a genuine relationship with you, always so focused on your younger sister. She was the prettier, thinner, more impressive version of you. You have only had one best friend throughout your long 24 years on this earth. She was smarter than you and moved away from the timid small town you shared in Northern Maine, choosing an out-of-state university. So, being alone was a familiarity. You have made peace with it. But being lonely — that’s a whole other ball-park. 

The booming thwack of thunder startles you from your thoughts. Your sweet calico boy leaps from your warm lap and scurries under the dining table — tail puffed in fear. “Milo... it’s okay,” you whisper. He just gleams at you with his jet-black saucer eyes. Even you don’t believe your own words. You are not used to storms like this, and you didn’t really prepare. You read some articles online about stocking up: having plently of batteries, candles, non-perishable foods. Yet, you didn’t do any of that. 

Rubbing away the moisture from your damp upper lip — the heat inside your home already becoming unbearable. Deciding on a whim, you can head to a nearby hotel for the night. Unsure how long you will be without power and don’t wish to succumb yourself or your cat to the searing temperatures of the night. 

The rain has slowed down, as you feel the soft patter on your umbrella. Throwing your purse and water bottle in the front seat, you begin to dread unpacking all this stuff when you get to the hotel. Bags, cat litter, cage — scrutinizing yourself mentally and deciding you better fucking prepare for the next storm. 

“Where ya headin’ sweetheart?”

Your heart jumps at the deep smooth Southern voice that fills your thoughts at night. When your hands would find their way in between your quivering legs. Throughout the day. Pretty much all the time.

Joel Miller is the only person in this town that has ever filled the lonely void you can never seem to fill. When you moved to the quiet suburban street, he was the first to come greet you as you struggled to pull your mattress out of the U-Haul. Immediately lending a hand, and proceeding to lug all of your remaining boxes, furniture, miscellaneous items into your new home. 

“Pretty lady like you, shouldn’t have to lift a single finger.” He remarked when you blushed and assured him you could handle the rest, not wanting to be a burden. Even though the sweat dripping down your back was apparent and 5 minutes prior you had no idea how you’d be able to unpack the remainder of the truck. He then assured you — there was no way in hell you were being a burden. Words that were a rarity. 

Later that afternoon, he invited you for dinner at his home. You met his lovely daughter, Sarah. Where everyone learned that you were her new school teacher. What were the odds? 

Following that, seeing Joel was frequent. From parent-teacher conferences, backyard barbecues for the neighborhood, or even small intimate dinners with Sarah at each others homes. Sarah would even spend the night at yours on occasion. When Joel had a late night at the construction site, or when she just needed some girl time. You adored that little girl, and vice versa. 

You also adored the fuck out of Joel. 

So when you looked up at his porch, finding him in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants.. your throat went dry. His tanned skin gleamed softly from the street light — little speckled freckles adorned his waist in various spots. And that darkish grey hair on his chest and fat of his lower tummy that flowed underneath his pants. Your brain fuzzy at the thought of your face pressed against it as you swallow his cock. 

But you were not a fool. Joel would never express an attraction towards you. A man like that? He deserved the perfect woman. 

“Darlin’?” He speaks again, a bit louder. Disturbing your wandering thoughts. 

“I- I was gonna head to a hotel for the night, my house is too hot already. And I don’t want Milo to be uncomfortable.” 

Joel’s eyes wander down your body as you explain — the plush jiggle of your tits in that small tank. Nearly spilling out. Slightly damp from the rain or humidity. The chub of your tummy spills slightly from your leggings. A sight that makes his cock swell unbearingly. An act that occurs more often than not when he sees you or even thinks of you for the countless minutes of his day. 

“No way. Not gonna let ya drive in this weather. Plus, most hotels nearby are gonna be overbooked. I got the generator up n’ working, got the spare room too. You’re stayin’ over.” 

“No! No, Joel. I can’t.”

“N’ why not?” His hands have found his way to his hips, popping a knee out and giving you that classic dad glare. Not angry, but confused as to why you’re even protesting when he’s already decided. 

“I don’t want to intrude and I have Milo. You and Sarah are allergic.”

“Sarah left yesterday to stay with her mom in California for the rest of the summer. Besides, Milo loves me. I can handle a runny nose as long as I know the two of ya are safe.” 

To this, your stomach nearly flips inward on itself. You’ve never been alone with Joel in his home. Not for this long. The few times you’ve come over to help him with dinner before Sarah got home from soccer practice, have always been excruciating. Staring at him without worry. Watching his muscles flex through his t-shirts. Big hands chopping vegetables and plating food. His hand lightly touching your waist when scooting by. 

There’s no possible way you can survive a night in Joel’s home. 

But, he’s already grabbing his umbrella and walking over to you. He grabs your stuff from the car and tells you to go grab Milo. So, you do.

Joel slips on a t-shirt after he put your stuff in the spare room, disappointedly enough. You nearly told him to keep it off, but held your tongue. You made yourself comfortable at the island barstool as you typed up some early lesson plans, Milo at your feet. 

He patters over to Joel who is now leaning against the counter, brushing against his leg. He then leaps onto the granite and purrs against Joel’s arm. 

“Psst! Milo get do-“ you beg, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. 

“S’ okay, sweetheart. He’s not botherin’ me,” Joel attempts to settle your nerves. Petting Milo’s soft fur and scratching under his chin, that special spot all cats love. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” He nods towards the coffee he’s brewing. 

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” You beam at him. Joel’s heart skips a beat every time your cheeks puff up ever so slightly when you smile at him. It’s something he swears is the most endearing thing about you. Of course, he’s only ever shared that with his daughter. Who begs her father to just take her favorite teacher on a date already. 

Joel grabs some sugar and oat milk from the fridge, your favorite. He learned from the few breakfasts you guys had shared. A bit of sugar and a nice gulp of milk softens the dark roast color in the mug, he slides it over to you as he grabs his plain black coffee. 

“You remembered!” You giggle slightly at the Number 1 Dad title that adorns the mug, taking a sip. You moan at the taste, exactly how you like it. 

“Of course I did, darlin’.” You almost hate how easily those pet names roll of his tongue. You summed it up as his southern hospitality, figured he calls any woman those special names. “So, you ready for this new school year?”

An icky feeling settles in your stomach. The thought of returning to the painful and toxic work environment you can only escape when you’re with your students.

“Not without my Sarah girl,” you swiftly change the subject towards the one person he can talk hours about.

He smiles proudly at her name. 

“Ya know, she still all mad that you wouldn’t flunk her so she could have another year with ya.” Both your laughs quickly fill the empty house. 

“Well, even if I tried to, that girl is too smart for her own good. She should skip a grade in my opinion.” You state, and you’re truthful at that. Sarah Miller is as intelligent as she is quick-witted. 

“Yeah, she gets it from me.” At that you roll your eyes playfully. Typing something up before closing your computer and taking another sip of coffee. “Although I love boastin’ over her, I guess I meant are you excited to go back? They treat ya good there?” 

Joel watches the color drain from your soft skin. Realizing he touched somewhere that might be too personal. Too raw. “M’ sorry sweetheart, shouldn’t have asked.”

“No- no uh, you’re fine. Um, honestly? No. I’m not excited. The staff there aren’t exactly the kindest bunch.” You confess, slight unease crawling over you. 

Joel’s eyes scrunch in confusion. Mind blank on how the kindest soul he knows, could be surrounded by complete opposite. “Whatcha mean?”

You sigh letting the anxiousness settle a bit before speaking again, “they hate me. I don’t even know why, really? I have tried my hardest to get them to accept me but nothing seems to work. Whether it’s jabs at my appearance, teaching style, they’re never satisfied.” Your eyes are burning slightly, haven’t confessed this burden you constantly carry to anyone. “If it wasn’t for your daughter and my class, and… you.. well, I think I wouldn’t have made it through. I try to be strong, I try to be everything that people expect from me but it’s just so hard, Joel.” At that, the fat tears begin to stream down your face.

Joel was frozen in shock. Or maybe anger. Protectiveness. He wanted to hurt the people who made you feel like this. The least deserving of any pain. He sets his mug down and snatches you in his embrace. Holding your head with his hand, stroking your back with the other. He lets you sob almost uncontrollably into his firm chest. 

“I just hate being so alone.” You whisper, clutching onto him. You can’t even be embarrassed anymore, you’re so overthrown by his scent, his comfort. Comfort you’ve not felt in so so long. 

Joel kisses your temple softly, "promise you're not alone, sweet girl." He nudges your head to look up at his own sorrowful expression. His thumb running over your full lips, a bit swollen from your teeth biting down on them in an attempt to muffle your sobs. "So beautiful." He murmurs as he leans down to place a kiss on your left cheek, his lips skim over yours before he places another on your right.

Joel just barely hears the whimper from the back of your throat when that feather light skim happened. He leans back half an inch, staring into your glossy eyes. "Tell me not to, and I'll let you go upstairs and get some rest. Tell me, sweetheart."

It feels like a whole minute passes by. The soft patter of the rain, the smell of coffee beans from each others breath, the same slow breathing that overwhelms the little space between you both.

Desperation.

Your fingers tighten on his shirt, "don't let me go upstairs, Joel."

Joel smashes his mouth into yours, his guttural groan flying into your soft whimpers. The softness Joel expressed a moment ago is long gone. This kiss is messy, teeth-clanking, tongue inside your mouth. Like he wants to devour you from the outside in. He releases your lip with a pop.

He threads his thick fingers through the base of your hair and yanks it back gently, tongue on your neck. Biting the skin there. "You're so soft, baby. Just need me to mark ya up, is that right?"

You nod as hard as you can despite his harsh grip on your locks.

"I need you to use your words, sweet girl. Let me know what you're thinkin'."

"Everything you do is okay. I want more. I need it all. Please."

"Oh baby, cm'ere," he wraps your lavish thighs around his waist and hoists you into his arms. Easily. Like you're just the most delicate thing he's ever held.

As he walks to his bedroom, you smile into his neck. Arms wrapped over his shoulders, hand rubbing ever so softly at his greying curls. You bite at the skin under his ear and he gives your ass a huge squeeze. Groaning at how his big hands barely hold all the meat there. He couldn't wait to touch and gnaw at this body he loved.

At the foot of his bed, he taps your leg as if telling you to get down. You stand in front of his massive overbearing figure, staring up at him lustfully. You grab the bottom of your compression tank top and pull it over your head, revealing your unsupported chest. Your heavy tits fall a bit.

"My god," Joel falls to his knees in front of you, face nearly level with your pebbled nipples. Both his hands grab a fistful of each, rolling them in his palm. Your sweet noises fill the room and he swears he might've just came in his pajama pants right there. He takes his teeth and bite at the fat above your leggings, licking and sucking at a sensitive part of you. Literally and figuratively.

Joel abandons your chest to yank your leggings and panties down in one move, coming face-to-face with your prickly oozing pussy. He can't restrain himself much longer, spinning you around he pushes you down into his mattress.

He spreads your ass open with both hands, the chub of your lips open ever so slightly as the slick between them strings together.

"Perfect cunt." That's when you feel the chill of liquid spat right onto your puckered hole, dripping down to your clit. He leans in, tongue catching the tangy mixture of your slick and his saliva, right on your throbbing clit.

You screech into the sheets, so turned on from his actions. As he licks up to dip his tongue into your hole, one hand that's holding you open sneaks up your back, to your neck and yanks your head up.

"Nu-uh, let me hear you, baby girl." He demands as he pauses to throw his shirt off as fast as possible — not wanting to leave your cunt for too long without the warmth of his mouth.

He sloppily makes out with your cunt as it clenches and unclenches under his tongue, his beard prickling at your skin. Like he wants your scent all over him for as long as possible.

"Ohh daddy, more more," you whisper hazily, hand reaching back to grab his head desperate to have him as deep as possible.

Joel stops as he processes your choice of title. "What was that, darlin'?"

You freeze at his serious tone. Just now realizing what you've called the man. "Oh my god, I'm s-" Joel grabs your wrist and pins it against your lower back — thick middle and ring finger hooking into you with no warning. Your wetness aiding in the rapid slide of them.

He spits on your puckered hole again and abandons your wrist to land a harsh smack against your ass.

"Only dirty girls say that word, baby. Are you daddy's dirty girl?" He edges you on as he spanks you again on the opposite side. Hard. Unsparing. A side of Joel you've never seen. And oh, does it make you feel that coil tightening within you.

"Mmmm yes yes 'm your dirty girl, daddy!" You groan loudly, eyes swelling with fresh tears. But not tears of pain from earlier, pleasure.

Joel's fingers fuck into you harder, thumb now rubbing at your clit as he leans forward to prod his tongue at your asshole. "Cum for me, my nasty sweet girl. Drench my face. Let me taste you even more." He halts his fingers knuckle deep, hooked inside your cunt as he presses into that spot on repeat. Like he's stroking it out of you.

That's all it takes for you to silently scream as you squirt all over his lower beard covered face and your thick inner thighs, that nearly squish his head from how hard you're coming. Joel just keeps himself situated, never letting up. Allowing you to completely let go and rut back into him, telling him you need more.

"Thaaat's it, my good fuckin' girl.” He praises as he kisses your cunt and ass, he leans over your face capturing your lips in a kiss so messy and depraved. “Open that mouth.” Spitting roughly onto your tongue with a groan as you taste your sweetness that he knows he will forever be addicted to. No chance of recovery.

He ruts his thick bulge into your ass as you whine needly.

"Really want you to fuck my face, now." You beg, hand reaching down to grope him through his loose pjs.

"Mmmmm," he murmurs as his hips keep rutting into you. "Tonight is about you, baby. M' gonna stuff your tight cunt so fuckin' deep you'll feel it in your throat, don't worry." And with that promise, he releases himself, throbbing cock slapping against his lower tummy. You flip onto your back just to see it and your eyes widen at the sight before you.

You always knew it was huge just from perception, but god. It's thicker than your wrist, and looks like it would prod into your cervix. Painful even. Joel senses the worry on your face as he pushes your legs back against your chest. Admiring the way your stomach folds into itself, soft roll after roll. And the thickness of your inner thighs lays heavy. He just wants to get down and feast on you again but he might die if he doesn't feel you wrapped around him.

"You're in charge here, sweetheart. Understood?" He explains as he rubs his fat cock head up and down your swollen slit — notching on your opening with every downward stroke.

You nod slowly, peeking down at the monster between your legs once more. He squeezes your ankle, subtly reminding you to vocalize.

"Yes daddy, I understand."

"Good." And with that, he pushes into your fluttering hole. Your eyes roll back immediately, head thumping onto the soft duvet. He pushes in deeper, barely halfway in and he sees your feet and eyes scrunch a bit. It almost feels like he could rip you apart. Maybe it's because you haven't been fucked in a hot minute — or maybe it's just that Joel is so fucking hung. More than any guy you've slept with.

“Deep breath for me, sweetheart.” He soothes you, as soon as he sees your chest fall — he slams the rest of the way in. Hips flush with the back of your thighs. Cock fully sheathed in your warm soaked cunt. Heavy brimming balls pressed against your little puckered hole. “You feel so damn good. Dripping for me.” Joel’s eyes close at the feeling of you hugging him so tight. He suddenly forgets the feeling of any other woman he’s pleased. Utterly devoted to you from here on out.

When he pulls out all the way to his fat tip — it notches on your opening. Like he has to put in that extra effort to fully remove himself from you. But he doesn’t, and starts fucking into you fully. Never half way, never pulling completely out.. but always making sure he reaches the end of you.

“Da- daddy oh, harder please.” You plead, squeezing his forearm at the overwhelming feel of him nudging your cervix with every thrust.

That confirmation of pleasure is all Joel needs to push your legs back even more — ankles by your head — and began a brutal relentless pace. Grabbing a fistful of your jiggling tit and messy hair, he pulls your head up so you can watch how he ruins you for anyone else.

“Ya see that, see how swollen your gettin’ already?” Joel questions as he holds your head perfectly to observe the slight lifted pudge on your tummy. Paired with the way his coarse hair rubs against your swelled clit — it’s a drool worthy sight.

“Cus’ your so big, Joel.” You sigh, eyes fluttering from the primal force he’s using on your body.

A smug grin flicks across his face at the view. Mind consumed by the most perfect woman. Eyebrows turning inward, the little lines between them deepening as you try to comprehend all the emotions in this moment. Removing his hand from your head, he finds your clit and swipes it upward. Over and over. Leaning down, he sucks as much of your breast into his mouth as humanely possible. Tongue flicking the pebbled area, coercing your orgasm from you. “Cum with me, baby.” His muffled command shoots straight to your filled core.

As he feels you spasm around his thickness, he stills balls deep. “There it is, baby…” Spilling his cum inside your warmth. Plugging you, keeping you full of him. Joel relaxes his body against yours, finding your mouth to kiss you gently. Sweaty foreheads against one another. Joel goes to push off of you, his comforting body heat about to be ripped away.

"No! Wanna feel you longer, please."

Your protest makes Joel's heart surge. "Of course, sweet girl." Wrapping his large arms around you, he flips you both so that your soft plush body lays above him. The new angle makes his spent cock nudge a bit deeper, you both moan at the faint squelch of his cum overflowing your cunt. "You're so perfect," he mutters.

Smiling into his full chest, you leave a swift kiss. "So are you. Thank you for this. For.. everything."

Joel's hands finds your back as he begins gentle strokes onto your supple skin, his head resting atop your own. "Thank you, darlin'. I want you to understand something, you might just be the finest thing that ever happened to Sarah and I. Y'know, she didn't really want to see her mom. Never had the best relationship with her. She just wanted to spend the remainder of the summer havin' ya over everyday to swim and all. That girl admires you more than anyone."

Eyes foggy, you shift to gaze up at him. "And what does her father think?"

Joel pauses briefly, rich brown orbs beaming into yours. "Think she's damn right. She didn't want me to tell you this, but she left so I could have some alone time with you — take ya out. Scolded me sayin' by the time she's back, we better be together." He laughs at the thought, you join him. Picturing that 4'9 ball of fire lecturing her father on the rules of dating.

"So, you're asking me out Miller?" You question with a heavy hopeful heart.

"Should've done it forever ago, darlin'." He confesses, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.

And with that, you place your head back onto the warm chest of the man you've craved your entire life. Realizing, ever since that day where he first greeted you with that sultry gentleman voice — you were never truly alone.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[08luvmailz]

𓇼 ME MISS YOU . . ਏਓ !

summary 𓍯 which he followed you because he missed you ꒰ 🧾 ꒱ fluffy life with husband

The eerie silence and the harsh wind whispers weaving through the cool night air, though it's only 5:30 in the afternoon. Crouching low, I fisted my hands through my victim's hair and chopped his head off as my breath steadied, eyes locked on the faint rustle of the bushes—a promising sign of tonight's catch.

It's been almost a year of this endless cycle, by day cuddling and having a blissful life with Mr. Crawling as you give him endless affection, or he will whine to death, and by night- killing humans to feed him. As your eyes wandered through your vision toward the unmoving dead body, your mind wavered toward your husband even though you weren't married officially.

You two are together and bonded by our souls, obeying you and listening to you even though there is a gap in speaking, never ceases to stun you every day. He waits at home, is always patient, and is always trusting. The thought of his joy warms you as you tighten your grip on your crowbar and knife.

Back at the apartment, it feels unbearable still. Mr. Crawling gazes through the door—waiting for your return. His fingers relentlessly tapped the tatami board as it echoed through the room. It's been almost an hour since she left him, she always does every day for him.

He still remembered her voice firming when she told him to stay.

He watches her moving to gather her things, his legs tucked close to his body. He knows her too well—the same command she gives every time. Stay. He doesn't think about it but wants more of her touch, only about the moment before her absence, and he clung to her as his large frame wrapped around her waist. He chirped in a low tone, full of worry and protest. His grip tightened slightly, enough to make his point without holding her back.

He pressed his face into your legs, his arms curling towards your leg, "stay" he told her as he snuggled to her, not wanting to let go, “ you’re so stubborn” she murmured, stroking his head. The gesture was a silent reassurance for him to stop worrying though she knew it wouldn't stop him from worrying.

She turns to face him as his face is still smothered to her thighs, his cold lips puckering into her skin. He doesn’t need words to tell her how he feels; the way he clings to her, his body trembles faintly, caught between his instinct to obey and his need to protect her.

As her warm fingers tangled into his hair, brushing it calmly, she told him, " Me back soon; I find food. " she promised, her voice softer now. “You don’t have to worry.”

With a final sigh, she gently pries him off, his cold finger reluctant to let go. “Stay here,” she says, her tone firmer now, though her heart aches at the look he gives her. He didn't move and obeyed her, as she smiled one last time and crouched to his level to kiss his forehead, " I'll be back soon. I Promise," She said one last time to open and lock the door, leaving him in a trance with determination to follow her.

He was hesitant to disobey her requests and always did, lowering his head in submission. But now, in the suffocating silence, he feels the weight of her absence like a stone in his chest. He tried to wait, his attempts to distract himself with television, watching shows that helped him understand her language more, but as soon as his face glimmered when he saw the heroine with her lover cuddling in a scene. It was no use. missing her so dearly that his pull to follow her was too strong, an instinct older than obedience.

She is his world, his reason, and the thought of her out there alone, facing whatever dangers the night might bring, fills him with unease. Even though he knew she was capable of handling herself well, killing those people for him joyed him. He knew she loved him as much as he loved her.

Making his decision wasn't easy for him, he knew he would face the consequences of her ignoring him though he shook his head, he wanted to see her, he needed her now.

He moves swiftly to the door. His movements are precise and quiet, the art of going unnoticed. He knows where she has gone—he’s watched her enough times at the window to remember the path she takes. He follows her scent, a trail as familiar to him as the rhythm of his footsteps. With every step, he feels her grace like a taut thread, pulling him closer to her.

Its darkness yawned wide like the mouth of a beast. He hesitates for a moment, hearing her voice in his mind, Stay. Wait for me. But he presses on.

He moved carefully, his body blending into the dark foliage as his fingers gripped the pole lamp. He saw her gripping tightly to her crowbar and massively hitting her victim, he watched in awe as pride swelled in his chest at the sight of her—strong, capable, everything he admires.

Though he knows the facade she's been growing through back there in his world, he saw her unreality in a tick of time, and by the hanging thread of webs-he had been with her, and he knew she was close to insanity. Was she close? Or she's already been insane nevertheless, he will always be there with her.

She didn't notice him at first, focused on the task ahead. But then a chitter of a familiar voice captivates your attention as you whip your head, your coat shadowing your expression of bloodlust to confusion. There he is, his head tilted with his adoring smile. She shook her head with a giggle, he never listened to her as she pointed him to get closer to him.

He lowered his body as his smile creeped out to his ear, he skitters toward her, his movements quick but careful as he came faster to her and clung to her lower body as his face smothered to her bloodied coat "I miss you, I love you. " he said with a chitter as his cold hands hold her bloodied ones and directly placed into his head.

You sighed in intent and ruffled his hair as you looked down and cupped his face with our bloodied hands "You didn't listen to me, But I forgive you. " You crouched to his level as his hands wandered to your body and cupped your face and smothered a messy kiss on your lips, his cold lips puckering your bottom lip leaving a chitter from him. "Me love you, " he told you as he came closer to your body, his large frame almost hugging your smaller ones. You giggled to him as you corrected his grammar, always forgetting the "I", " I love you, too. "

He chirps, leaning into her touch, his body vibrating with relief, he clung to her like a baby as his face looked at the bloodied streets. "Food?" He questioned her, as his hands never left hers. "Yeah, food for you. " As she pointed to the dead body beside them.

As she stands up to place the chopped meat in a plastic bag with blood, "Let's go home." her hands directing him to hold her, he stands up, his towering silhouette blending with the shadows of the city. His mind is clear, his resolve unshakable. He is with her, the love of his life, and with every consequence they will face, he knows she will be there with him as she is with him.

[finelinefae]

friends [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: bambi meets harry's best friends.

word count: 8.8k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), drunk harry, shy reader, boyfriend!h

this is part 3 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Y/N was slowly but surely finding her rhythm at Pleasing. Thanks to Harry’s advice on making the most of each day (advice he apparently wrote a book about—though when Lindsey mentioned it, Harry had quickly shushed her and changed the subject), she had developed a solid morning and evening routine.

Her workdays at Pleasing fell on the busiest days of Harry’s schedule, which meant she was there three times a week. Those mornings began promptly at 7 a.m., with her clothes already laid out from the night before. After waking, she’d prepare breakfast for herself and her brothers, speaking to Harry on the phone as they went about their respective routines in separate homes. Once breakfast was done, she’d brush her teeth, do her makeup, and style her hair. By the time the school bus arrived to whisk her brothers away, her car would be rounding the corner to take her into the city.

Despite her hectic schedule, Y/N was managing to juggle her studies—though she couldn’t ignore that they were beginning to take a backseat. Lately, she’d found herself questioning whether she even wanted to continue her course. But with life moving at such a whirlwind pace, the thought of making a definitive decision felt overwhelming. For now, it was easier to just focus on the day-to-day.

To her surprise, Y/N was actually enjoying her job—something she’d never expected. She’d never been a fan of “adulting”; being forced to grow up quickly didn’t mean she had to like it. Paying bills, going to work, and worrying about the future had always felt like too much. But having a steady job offered her a rare sense of stability—one she appreciated more than she wanted to admit. It kept food on the table, gave her some consistency, and most importantly, brought her closer to Harry.

Keeping their relationship a secret, however, was proving to be a challenge. Surprisingly, Y/N was the more professional of the two, maintaining her composure in the workplace. She kept her hands to herself and avoided lingering glances, even when they were in the same room. Harry, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as disciplined. He had a knack for initiating little interactions that straddled the line of propriety—always claiming they were “accidents.”

Like the time he held her hand just a second too long. Or the time he “accidentally” kissed her in the elevator right as the doors were opening. Then there was the incident during a meeting when, as she served tea, he tugged on the hem of her dress—apparently needing a refill.

Y/N couldn’t help but adore how infatuated he was, but she was determined to keep things professional. The last thing she wanted was for her coworkers to think she had an unfair advantage because of her relationship. Still, Harry’s innocent looks and playfulness made it hard to stay mad at him for long.

“I need to ask you something,” Harry said from his desk. 

It was Wednesday evening and everyone had gone home. Harry had needed to catch up on some work so Y/N stayed behind after some convincing with the proposition he would drop her home afterwards. Y/N was sitting on the chair opposite, her notebook open and laptop screen. Her laptop was on its last legs, taking forever to load and lagging every five seconds but she could never afford a new one and having one was better than nothing. 

“What’s wrong?” She looked up, wearing her glasses and face framed by wispy bits of loose hair that had escaped her messy bun. 

Harry’s face brightened when she looked up at him. “C’mere, Bambi. Too far away.” He pushed himself away from his desk and gestured to his lap. 

Y/N smiled and walked around the desk to sit in his lap. She straddled herself across his lap and wrapped both her arms around his neck, “Y’ smell good,” He murmurs, smelling her gingerbread cookie perfume even though it was Autumn, she was already excited for her favourite day of the year. 

“What did you want to ask?” She pouted. 

As if remembering he bought her over for a purpose, he continued, “This weekend, y’know you’re coming to stay the night?”

How could she forget? It was all she had been thinking about since he asked her. She had even bought brand new pyjamas with the remaining paycheck from her old job because her usual ones were worn and not as pretty. She had never been to a sleepover before let alone one with a man. She was’t sure what to expect but had seen movies where girls would sleepover and they’d paint each others nails and eat ice cream. She knew that wouldn’t be the case with Harry but she had made a list of other things they could do together that he’d enjoy too. 

“I know,” Y/N nodded, brows furrowed as she waited for him to continue. Part of her couldn’t help but worry. Did he not want her to sleep over anymore?

"Some of my friends are having a dinner get together type thing," Harry said, his tone casual but hopeful. "I haven’t said I’ll go yet because I knew you were coming over, but I wanted to ask if you’d like to come with me?"

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. "To the dinner party? With you?"

Harry smiled, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Yeah, with me. Who else?"

She blinked, processing his words. "I’d be meeting your friends?" she asked cautiously. "Are you sure about that?"

"Why wouldn’t I be sure?" he replied, his brow lifting slightly.

"I don’t know, I just..." she trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to explain the nervous flutter in her chest.

"Ah, there y’go, Bambi," Harry smirked, leaning in just enough to make her cheeks burn. "Getting all flustered."

"I’m not flustered!" she protested, though the warmth in her face betrayed her.

Harry chuckled, his gaze warm and steady as it met hers. "It makes me happy, you know—thinking about introducing you to my friends. They were excited when I mentioned you."

"They were?" Y/N asked, her brows lifting in surprise.

"Mhm," he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "They know it’s rare for me to bring someone I’m dating into the mix this early on." He leaned in, nuzzling against her neck and pressing a soft kiss to her skin. "So, will you come? We can head back to mine after."

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay... but I don’t know if I have anything to wear."

Harry smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Y’know I can sort that," he teased.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed instantly, and she bit back a shy smile as his confidence and charm worked their usual magic. 

. . .

Y/N glanced down at her suitcase, biting her lip. Did I overpack for one night? Probably. She always did.

Growing up, money had been tight, but once Y/N started earning her own at sixteen, she’d developed a habit of indulging herself. Not extravagantly—there were no designer handbags or flashy purchases—but enough to feel like she was treating herself after the grind of a day. Skincare, makeup, clothes—her modest earnings often vanished in the blink of an eye.

Fashion was her weakness. Her clothing rack groaned under the weight of her ever-expanding wardrobe, frequently collapsing as if protesting her relentless shopping habit. Packing for this overnight stay at Harry’s had been no exception. She’d started with a backpack, then upgraded to a duffle bag, only to realize that wouldn’t fit everything she might need. Now, her suitcase sat by the stairs, practically mocking her indecision.

“Whoa.” Sammy’s voice broke her thoughts as he sauntered into her room, a chocolate bar in hand. “Are you moving in?”

“No,” Y/N huffed, hands on her hips. “I just want to be prepared.”

Sammy raised an eyebrow. “You know, he could just stay here instead.”

Y/N stilled. The boy’s first night without her had everyone feeling uneasy, and she knew Sammy wasn’t looking forward to it. His gaze was guarded, but she could see the vulnerability underneath.

“It’ll be fine,” she reassured, stepping closer. “It’s just one night. If you really hate it, we’ll—”

“You’ll what?” he interrupted, his voice breaking slightly. “There’s going to be a day when you move out. And leave me. With Mom. Or... without her.”

The words hit harder than he intended. Y/N swallowed the lump forming in her throat, reaching out to him. She saw the sadness etched in his eyes, a reflection of her own fears. “Wherever I go, you go,” she whispered firmly.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Sammy leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Y/N held him close, closing her eyes for a moment before pulling away.

The sound of a knock at the front door jolted her. She glanced at the clock, muttering a quick, “That’s Harry,” as she rushed downstairs. She wanted to intercept him before Archie could get started—her little brother’s chatter had a way of turning quick visits into extended stays.

Yanking the door open, she froze. Harry stood there, a beaming smile lighting up his face despite the chill in the air. He wore a puffer jacket and shorts, his casual confidence making her heart skip.

“Hi, Harry,” she greeted, cheeks tinged pink, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or his presence. Without thinking, she leapt into his arms, her sock-clad feet barely touching the doorstep.

“Hi, Bambi,” he chuckled, steadying her as his arms closed around her. “Y’ready to go?”

“Mhm.” She pulled back, slipping on her shoes. “Let me say goodbye to the boys.”

Harry’s gaze shifted behind her, landing on the suitcase by the stairs. A laugh bubbled from him. “Are you planning on moving in?”

Y/N furrowed her brows, following his line of sight. When realization dawned, she flushed. “Oh, that. I, uh... didn’t know what I’d need.”

His grin softened as he stepped closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “S’alright, Bambi,” he murmured. “M’just excited to have you over.”

She smiled, her heart swelling as he leaned in for another kiss. Then, without missing a beat, he grabbed her suitcase and carried it effortlessly to the car.

After she had bid goodbye to her brother’s and promised them some much needed one on one time with them once she came back from Harry’s house, Y/N took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself for the next twenty four hours. 

. . .

In the car to Harry’s apartment, Y/N sat in the passenger seat with one hand intertwined with Harry’s whilst he drove with his other. The radio played through the car speakers, avoiding complete silence on the journey. The dulcit tones of Marvin Gaye playing throughout. 

“Y’ hands are freezing,” Harry said. Y/N instinctively tried to pull away as though her hand being cold was a bad thing but Harry clung tighter, raising both their hands and kissing her knuckles before blowing his warm breath over her hand. “Do you need me to up the heater?”

Y/N shook her head, “No it’s okay, my hands get cold when I’m nervous.” She confessed. 

Harry frowned, “Nervous? Are you okay?”

Y/N cringed, “M a little worried about meeting your friends. What if they don’t like me?” 

Harry gave her a comforting smile, “Bambi, they’re so excited to meet you. You have nothing to worry about. They’ve met other girls I’ve dated and trust me when I say you’re a walking angel in comparison to them.” 

“H-Have you dated a lot of other girls?” Y/N felt awkward bringing it up but her curiosity was getting the better of her. Harry had only mentioned briefly of the other women he had dated. Of course he had dated other women, he was a successful, handsome millionaire with a fashion company. It would be pointless trying to deny it. 

Harry thought for a moment like he was trying to think carefully about his response, “I’ll be honest, I used to date a lot of women when I first started making money. I wasn’t very good when I started getting attention from the press. I drank a lot and spent money on buying out nightclubs and bars for the night.” 

Y/N was shocked. She tried to picture her Harry being the version of himself he spoke about. “But my company was no where near as successful as it is now so even though I was spending a lot, I was losing a lot too. I nearly went bankrupt at one point which really gave me a kick up the ass. My sister, she’s an accountant back home in England, she came to visit and helped me get my act together.” 

“Oh wow,” Y/N didn’t really know what else to say. She couldn’t seem to envision her sweet, soft and wholesome Harry being a party animal and spening nights in bars for days on end. 

“Did that put you off?” Y/N immediately shook her head. 

“Of course not, we’ve all got things we’re not proud of.” Y/N replied. 

Harry smiled, “What about you? Any psycho ex-boyfriends I need to worry about?”

Y/N laughed, “No lucky for you, I don’t think a single guy has ever taken interest in me.” 

“I highly doubt that Bambi but you’re right, I am very lucky.” Harry flashed a cheeky grin, turning the wheel around the corner and stopped outside the tallest building she had ever seen that looked as though it was completely made of glass. 

Y/N’s was unable to say anything when her eyes gazed up at the towering stack of apartments. “You live in this building?” Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off, her neck permanently craned to look up. She was pretty sure the hjgihest point of the building resided in the clouds. 

Harry said nothing, parking his car in the private parking spot. He went to the back to grab her suitcase, Y/N stepping out of the car and walking around to meet him. 

“C’mon Bambi,” Harry chuckled at her awe-struck expression. 

They walked hand in hand through the lobby which looked as glamorous as you’d expect. Harry gave a nod to the security at the door as they went past and headed towards the elevator. Y/N’s eyes widened when his finger pressed the button for the top floor. 

The doors to the elevator opened and Y/N thought she might actually pass out. 

She stepped into Harry’s penthouse, her breath catching as her gaze swept over the space. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, all the people and cars down below looked like ants. The open layout was both elegant and inviting, with warm ambient lighting casting a golden glow over the neutral-toned furniture and rich wooden floors.

“Wow,” she whispered, taking a hesitant step further inside. The plush cream sofa, the sleek coffee table stacked with books, and the faint scent of vanilla in the air all felt so Harry—effortlessly stylish and welcoming.

Harry chuckled behind her, setting her suitcase by the door. “You like it?”

“Like it?” she breathed, turning to face him with wide eyes. “Harry, this is... incredible.”

He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “M’glad you think so. Wanted it to feel comfy, y’know? Somewhere I could actually relax.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes drifting back to the view. “Sometimes I forget how rich you are.”

Harry chuckles from behind her, “I’m actually very glad to hear that.”

She walked over to the windows, pressing her hands gently against the glass as she looked out at the city sprawling beneath them. For a moment, it felt like they were floating above it all, separate from the noise and chaos of the world below.

Harry joined her, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “S’better with you here,” he murmured, his voice soft.

Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest as she leant into him. Harry kissed her shoulder, turning her round to face him. He smiled when her eyes met his, “We have some time before we need to get ready, do you want to go unpack?”

“Oh of course, am I sleeping on the couch?” Harry furrowed his brows before bursting out laughing, water almost fell from his eyes. Y/N frowned, confused at his reaction. 

“You don’t want to sleep in my room Bambi? With me?” Y/N’s cheek scorched red but Harry just continued to laugh, “I mean I’m happy to sleep on the couch and let you sleep in my room if that’s what would make you comfortable.”

“No, it’s okay! I was just messing around,” She was all flustered. The idea of sleeping in Harry’s bed with him hadn’t crossed her mind like it maybe should have. 

“Are you sure? Y’ know I wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.” Y/N’s shoulders sunk at his sincere concern, she stood on her toes and kissed his lips. This time it was his turn to be surprised since it was rare for her to be the first to initiate a kiss between them. 

“I know,” She smiled, “I want to sleep in your room… with you.” 

Harry smiled, “Good. Let me give you a tour first.” 

Harry led Y/N back toward the kitchen, still holding her hand as they strolled through the open-concept living area. “First stop: the kitchen,” he said, motioning grandly as they stepped into the sleek, modern space.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in the marble countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and a large island that looked like it had been plucked from a home design magazine. A trio of pendant lights hung above, casting a warm glow over the pristine surfaces.

“Wow,” she breathed, running her fingers along the smooth countertop. “This is amazing. Do you even use it?”

Harry grinned, leaning casually against the island. “I use it for takeout. Does that count?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t know how anyone could resist cooking in here.”

“I can resist pretty easily, love,” he said with a smirk. “But if you ever fancy cooking together, I’m happy to assist. I’m great at stirring things and, uh… taste-testing.”

“Of course you are, no wonder you own a restaurant.” Y/N teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Harry chuckled, then nodded toward a door off to the side. “Alright, next stop: my office.”

He guided her through the door and into a smaller, cosier room that contrasted with the open, airy feel of the rest of the penthouse. The office was lined with dark wood shelves filled with books, a few framed photos, and scattered trinkets. A large desk sat in front of another set of floor-to-ceiling windows, the view just as stunning as the one in the living room.

“This is where I get most of my work done,” he said, walking over to the desk and leaning on it. “Or where I try to, anyway. Sometimes I just sit here and stare out at the city.”

Y/N wandered over to the shelves, her fingers lightly brushing the spines of the books. “It’s so… you,” she said softly, glancing at the little details—a framed photo of him with his family, a guitar pick sitting on a stack of papers, and a candle that smelled faintly of cedar.

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean messy?”

“No,” she said, laughing. “I mean it’s thoughtful. Personal.”

Harry’s smile softened, and he reached out to take her hand again. “Alright, enough of the boring office. Time to show you the best room in the house.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as he led her back down the hallway to his bedroom. When he pushed open the door, her breath hitched.

The bedroom was even more stunning than she’d imagined. The centerpiece was a massive bed with crisp white linens that looked impossibly soft, surrounded by sleek, minimal furniture. The far wall was made entirely of glass, offering an unobstructed view of the glittering city below. Heavy curtains were drawn to the sides, framing the view like a painting.

Harry watched her take it all in, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So? What do you think?”

“It’s… incredible,” Y/N whispered, stepping into the room. She walked over to the windows, pressing her hands against the glass as she gazed out at the city. “I don’t think I’d ever sleep. I’d just stay up staring at this view.”

“Well, lucky for you,” Harry said, coming up behind her and resting his hands gently on her shoulders, “the bed is comfortable enough to make you forget about the view.”

She turned to look at him, her cheeks warming. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”

Harry grinned, his dimples on full display. “Challenge accepted, Bambi.”

He took her hand and led her to the bed, sitting down beside her. The mattress really did feel like a cloud as she sank into it.

“I was serious earlier,” Harry said, his tone softer now. “You can sleep wherever you want—the bed, the couch, the office chair if you’re feeling adventurous. I just want you to be comfortable.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling at his thoughtfulness. “I already told you, Harry. I want to sleep here. With you.”

His eyes lit up at her words, and he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Good. Because I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that too.”

Harry stood up, “I’ll leave you to unpack. I’ve just go to make a few calls but there’s an ensuite bathroom you can use to freshen up.”

After Harry brought her suitcase to the bedroom, he left her to unpack. Y/N unzipped it and pulled out her washbag, heading into the ensuite bathroom.

The bathroom was stunning—a walk-in shower with dark tiles and jets built into the walls. She stepped to the sink, admiring the clean lines of the vanity, and placed her washbag carefully on the counter. She couldn’t help but smile when she noticed all of Harry’s skincare neatly organized in a cute little spinning container—it was such a contrast to her own chaotic setup. But then her eyes landed on the glass by the sink, where his toothbrush rested.

Beside it was a pink toothbrush.

Her heart softened at the sight, a warm flutter spreading through her chest. There was something about that simple detail that made her feel all warm and gooey inside. She’d never believed she would find someone she’d want to spend so much time with but here she was staying the night with Harry and about to meet his friends. 

Y/N walked into the living room, where Harry was already sitting on the couch with his laptop perched on her lap. He smiled when he saw her, and then his gaze fell to the object she was holding. “Is that Monopoly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N nodded, her grin widening. “Yeah, it’s the original version. I asked my brothers if I could bring it with me since we've had this set forever, and they would absolutely murder me if I lost any pieces. We have to be able to play it at Christmas."

The corner of Harry’s lips quirked in amusement. “Hmm, may I ask why you decided to bring Monopoly with you today?”

Y/N paused, clearly puzzled. “Isn’t that what people do at sleepovers? Play games?”

Harry’s grin spread wider. As she stepped closer, he reached out, pulling her toward him. She ended up collapsing onto his chest with a soft laugh.

“Oh, Bambi,” he murmured, showering her face with quick kisses. His lips tickled her skin, making her giggle uncontrollably. “You’re the most precious girl I’ve ever known, you know that?”

She smiled up at him, her cheeks flushed. “Does that mean you want to play?”

Harry gave a dramatic sigh, still grinning. “Of course! Are you kidding me? I love this game.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her voice playful. “Well, be prepared. I’m not one to brag, but I’m pretty good at it.”

His eyes lit up with challenge. “Oh, Bambi’s competitive, I see.”

A spark flickered in her eyes as she leaned in slightly, “Just a little.”

. . .

Harry loved discovering the many layers of his Bambi. To the outside world, she was shy and quiet, but to him, she was a multi-faceted woman, full of surprises he was peeling back one by one. Yet this afternoon might have revealed his favorite side of her yet.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with excitement and mischief as she declared her victory in Monopoly—long before the game had officially ended. Harry had debated whether to let her win, as any gentleman might, but it turned out he didn’t need to. She was fiercely competitive and had wiped the floor with him in just thirty minutes.

If time had allowed, Harry would’ve played another round or concocted a new game just to watch her face light up with that same playful energy. The afternoon spent with her, laughing over a simple board game, had him envisioning Christmas mornings and holiday traditions for years to come. It was silly, perhaps, to think so far ahead so early in their relationship, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t picture a future without Bambi in it.

Still, as the game wrapped up, he could see her nerves creep back in. The mention of preparing to meet his friends made her retreat into herself, her earlier exuberance melting into quiet apprehension. Despite his reassurances, Harry knew she’d wrestle with her anxiety until the dinner was behind them.

His friends, on the other hand, were eager to meet her. Their group chat had been buzzing with excitement about “the girl who finally tied him down.” Since Harry’s family was back in England, his friends were the closest thing he had to family in LA, making their opinions matter. But he had no doubt they’d love her.

In the living room, Harry waited for Y/N to finish getting ready, dressed in his tailored dark suit with a relaxed fit. The loose white tank underneath, with its wide scoop neckline, subtly revealed his tattoos, and the Pleasing logo stitched at the hem added a personal touch. Cream-colored loafers and white socks completed the look, his short curls neatly styled to keep them from obscuring his face.

The click of the bedroom door snapped him from his thoughts. He rose from the sofa, as alert as a puppy hearing its owner return. When Y/N stepped out, the oxygen seemed to leave the room entirely.

Her dress was light pink, soft and flowing, with thin spaghetti straps and a V-shaped neckline that showcased her décolletage. The slightly sheer fabric hinted at her elegant curves, while the asymmetrical hemline added a whimsical touch. Her hair was slicked back into a high ponytail, and her makeup was pink-toned and dewy, enhancing her natural glow. She paired the dress with strappy silver heels and a small, dainty bag dangling from her shoulder.

Her hand clung to her opposite arm, feeling vulnerable as she stood before him. Harry felt his breath hitch, his lips parting as he tried to absorb how breathtaking she looked.

“Bambi…” he managed, his voice low and reverent.

Her cheeks flushed. “Is it too much?” she asked softly.

Harry stepped closer, taking her hands in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You look beautiful. I don’t even have the words to tell you how incredible you are.”

She ducked her head, shy like the deer he affectionately nicknamed her after. “Thank you. You look very handsome, too,” she said with a smile.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on her like she was the only thing in the world.

“Do you like my dress?” she asked, her voice tentative.

Harry’s hands slid to her waist, feeling the soft fabric and the gentle curve of her silhouette. “I love it.”

“I made it,” she admitted, her blush deepening.

His brows lifted in surprise. “You did?”

She nodded, and Harry was awestruck. He’d seen her sketches before—ones she had reluctantly shared after he begged—but seeing her creations come to life was something else entirely.

Harry glanced at his watch, sighing reluctantly. “We should probably get going, but first…” He pulled out his phone, aiming it at the two of them. Y/N laughed, trying to push the camera away, but eventually relented, leaning in to kiss his cheek just as he snapped the photo. His grin widened, his eyes crinkling with joy.

Taking her hand, he asked, “Do you need a jacket?” His gaze flicked to her bare arms.

“I’ll be okay, as long as the bar has heating,” she replied with a small laugh.

Harry chuckled but grabbed a jacket on their way out anyway. He knew her well enough to anticipate the moment she’d get cold but wouldn’t say a word about it.

The drive to the bar felt like it took forever, thanks to the heavy city traffic. Harry’s hand remained warm on her thigh, and she wrapped her arm around his, seeking comfort from his touch. She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she couldn’t seem to stop.

“A little,” she confessed, glancing over at him. “I just want them to like me. I’ve never had to introduce myself to anyone’s friends before... I don’t want to mess up.”

“You’ll be fine, Bambi,” Harry reassured her, his voice calm as always. He’d said it so many times already, and she knew he’d say it dozens more if she needed to hear it. “Just be yourself. That’s all you need to be.”

Y/N wouldn’t say it out loud, but the age difference between her and Harry’s friends had been weighing on her mind all evening. The nine-year gap between her and Harry had never been an issue for them—it felt inconsequential when they were together. But his friends might see it differently.

What if they thought she was too young, too inexperienced, too… immature for someone like him? Worse, what if they assumed she was with him for his success, for the money he worked so hard to earn? The mere thought made her stomach twist. She didn’t want to be judged on circumstances she couldn’t change or assumptions she couldn’t dispel.

Harry’s friends meant a lot to him, and their approval—or lack of it—would sting far more than she cared to admit.

She nodded anyway, letting out a slow breath and turning her gaze to the window. The city lights blurred outside, their glow reflecting in her eyes. Even though his words helped calm her, she still couldn’t shake the nerves.

When they pulled up to the bar, the fancy building loomed in front of them. A valet was already waiting, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how Harry always seemed to have the luxury treatment everywhere they went. It was a reminder of how different her world was from his, but she tried not to dwell on it.

As Harry stepped out of the car, Y/N noticed the photographers waiting outside. It wasn’t a surprise, but it still made her stomach tighten. Harry wasn’t a mega-celebrity, but he was well-known enough in the business world that the occasional paparazzi was inevitable.

Harry opened the door for her, his hand gently resting on her hip as he helped her out. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. He kissed the top of her head, and it felt like both a reassurance for her and a subtle message to the photographers.

The bar was dimly lit and sophisticated with shiny tables and chairs with red upholstery. Live jazz music played as people chatted over glasses of wine that probably cost more than Y/N’s monthly wages had to offer. “Do you own this bar?” Y/N asked, clinging a little bit tighter to Harry’s hand. 

Harry chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Not this one,” he said, guiding Y/N toward a booth at the back of the bar. As they approached, the laughter of a group already seated at the table reached her ears. The sound was warm, familiar, like a group of people who had known each other for years.

A man with long brunette hair had his arm around a woman with similar dark hair that cascaded in waves down her shoulders. The two of them were laughing, their faces lit up in shared joy, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as they neared the group.

Before she could even take a deep breath, one of the men spotted them walking over. He had a rugged beard, and he stood up with a grin, his drink in hand.

“Harry!” he called out, extending his hand.

Harry gave him a knowing grin and shook his hand firmly, his other arm still wrapped around Y/N. “Mate,” he greeted warmly, pulling him into a quick hug.

Y/N watched the exchange, trying to hide the anxious flutter in her stomach. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she knew this was an important moment for her. She hadn’t met many of Harry’s close friends yet, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this would be a defining moment—how they reacted to her, how she’d fit in with this group that meant so much to him.

The man with the beard turned to Y/N, his eyes flickering with curiosity, and then he offered her a smile. “You must be Y/N,” he said, his tone warm and welcoming. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

Y/N smiled, a little relieved at the friendly tone in his voice. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too,” she replied, her nerves still there but starting to ease. “I’ve heard so much about you guys.”

Harry stood beside her, his hand still resting at the small of her back, offering her silent support as she navigated this new territory. 

The man with the beard grinned as he stepped back, giving Y/N a moment to breathe. "This is Mitch," Harry said, gesturing to the man with long brunette hair who was seated next to a woman with equally dark hair. Mitch gave her a warm, easy smile, his arm casually wrapped around Sarah’s shoulders.

"It’s great to meet you, Y/N," Mitch said, his voice easy and friendly. "Harry’s told us all about you."

Y/N’s nerves eased a little more as Mitch’s friendly demeanor helped her feel at home. "I hope it’s all good things," she said, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.

"Oh, definitely," Mitch replied, nudging Harry with his elbow and giving him a teasing grin. 

Sarah, Mitch’s girlfriend, stood up from the booth with a bright smile, her waves of dark hair catching the light. She reached out to shake Y/N’s hand, her voice warm and welcoming. “Hi! I’m Sarah. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, but Sarah’s friendly tone immediately put her at ease. “Nice to meet you too,” she replied with a smile, trying to match Sarah’s warmth. "Harry's mentioned you guys a lot."

“Good things, I hope,” Sarah teased, winking as she sat back down beside Mitch.

Before Y/N could respond, a deep voice from the other side of the booth spoke up. “You must be Y/N,” a man with a thick beard said, “I’m Jamie.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Y/N smiled.

Jamie gave her a smile that seemed to take up half his face, his eyes twinkling with humor. "Harry’s been keeping us in the loop." He offered her a firm handshake, his grip warm. “It’s about time we met the girl who finally has him whipped.”

Finally, a woman sitting across from Jamie stood up, her presence immediately commanding attention. Alessia was striking—her short hair framed her face with confidence, and her posture was strong. She offered Y/N a small, warm smile. "I’m Alessia," she said, extending a hand. "It’s so good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Harry."

"Nice to meet you too," Y/N said, shaking her hand with a smile. There was something calming about Alessia’s assuredness that made Y/N feel at ease, even though she was a little more reserved than the others.

As Alessia returned to her seat, Harry’s hand still rested on Y/N’s back, a silent comfort in the midst of the introductions, as they sat in the booth next to Sarah and Mitch. His friends were exactly as he’d described—kind, welcoming, and playful. They were a perfect match for Harry and that bought a sense of relief to her. 

“Can I get you a drink?” Harry murmured to Y/N, his hand gently brushing against hers as he leaned in.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She had never really drunk alcohol before—not because she didn’t want to, but simply because she never really went out drinking. Whenever she was out with her brothers, she always stuck to something safe like Coke or Sprite. She felt a little embarrassed to admit that she wasn’t sure what to order.

“Um…” She fumbled for words, feeling self-conscious. "I...I don't really know what to drink."

Harry’s smile softened, as if he understood right away. “Would you like me to pick something for you?”

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. He wasn’t making her feel stupid. "Yes, please," she said gratefully, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

With a nod, Harry turned and motioned for the guys to follow him toward the bar. As they walked off, Y/N felt her nerves kick in again. She was left standing with Sarah and Alessia, the two women who already seemed so at ease with each other and the group.

Y/N suddenly felt a little out of her element. She wasn’t used to hanging out with other women in this kind of setting. With her brothers, everything was easy and casual, but this... this felt different. She was afraid that her awkwardness would be obvious, so she searched for something to say, anything to break the silence.

It didn’t take long for Sarah to sense her discomfort. She leaned forward with a welcoming smile. “Where’s your dress from? It’s gorgeous,” she asked, her voice light and friendly.

Y/N's face softened at the compliment, and she felt more at ease. “Oh, um, I actually made it,” she said, a little shy but proud. "I love fashion, so I’ve been sketching designs for a while."

Sarah’s eyes widened, impressed. “Wait, you made it? That’s amazing!” She looked at Y/N with genuine admiration. “It looks beautiful on you. I honestly thought it was something you bought from a high-end store.”

Y/N laughed softly, feeling a bit shy but happy with the compliment. “Thanks, that means a lot. I’ve kept a lot of my sketches in an old notebook, but I’ve always wanted to show them to someone.”

“I would love to see them sometime,” Sarah said enthusiastically. “I’m obsessed with fashion too. Maybe we can swap ideas sometime.”

Alessia, who had been listening with a smile, chimed in. “You’re really talented. I’m sure Harry’s lucky to have someone so creative around especially with his company.” 

“Do you guys work in fashion too?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious about the two women she’d just met.

“Just Harry, I’m afraid,” Sarah replied with a playful smile. “We all went to art school, though. Mitch and I own an art gallery together, and Jamie runs a theatre company.”

“And I design album art for artists,” Alessia added, her voice warm and casual.

Y/N’s eyes widened in genuine awe. “Wow. That’s so impressive. Is that how you all met? Through art school?”

“Yep, we were kind of the outcasts of our year group,” Sarah said with a chuckle, “so we stuck together. And look where we are now.”

Y/N smiled, feeling the closeness between the group. “That’s so cool. And... were you and Mitch together back then?”

“Oh no,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head. “Sarah and Mitch didn’t get together until after art school. It was excruciating to witness—those two pining over each other for four years and never doing anything about it.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Alessia’s blunt description. “That sounds like a movie.”

“It kind of was,” Sarah said, laughing with her. “But it worked out in the end.”

“I bet Harry told you about us,” Alessia continued, leaning in a bit. “He told us he was bringing you tonight, and we were all nervous, actually.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Really? I was nervous too.”

“Are you kidding? After Harry’s last ‘girlfriend,’” Sarah said with a playful eye-roll, “we thought we’d be meeting some bitchy gold-digger who’d be all over him, trying to separate him from us. But then we met you, and it was like, thank God—you’re nothing like that. Honestly, we’re so relieved.”

“Harry talks about you non-stop,” Alessia added with a teasing grin. “For the last month and a half, it’s been ‘Y/N this, Y/N that,’ in our group chat. It’s kind of sweet, honestly.”

“Really?” Y/N blinked, her face softening with surprise.

Sarah smiled warmly. “Yeah, don’t worry, it’s nice to hear. He deserves someone who treats him right, you know? Especially after everything he’s done for all of us.”

Alessia nodded, her expression turning a little more serious. “He got me out of some serious debt. I was on the brink of losing everything, close to being homeless... but Harry stepped in. He rented me a place, helped me get back on my feet, and even called in a favor that landed me my first real job. He’s the most caring person I know.”

Y/N’s heart warmed at Alessia’s words. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard someone speak so highly of Harry, but it never failed to move her. Hearing it from his friends, people who had seen him at his best and worst, made her realise just how deeply Harry cared about the people in his life—and just how lucky she was to be part of it. 

Soon Harry returned with the boys, sliding into the seat next to her. He placed a drink in front of her, “I got you an Aperol Spritz but if you don’t like it I can get you something else.” He told her. 

“Thank you,” She beamed up at him and took a sip of her drink. It was light and bubbly with a slight bitter yet citrusy taste. The more she drank, the more she enjoyed the taste of it.  

Harry continued conversing with his friends, and Y/N found herself enjoying the easy banter between them. It was nice to see this side of him—relaxed, almost boyish, and playful. The way his friends teased each other with such familiarity made her smile, and it felt like she was catching a glimpse of Harry’s world before she’d come into it.

She liked his friends. All of them were warm and welcoming, each with their own distinct personalities, but there was a genuine closeness that she could see. They kept her in the loop, filling in the gaps on things she might not have fully understood—like an inside joke or a shared memory—until she felt like she was beginning to grasp the dynamics between them.

Sarah and Alessia were especially attentive, constantly asking her questions and trying to learn everything about her. Y/N appreciated their curiosity and kindness. They didn’t make her feel like an outsider, instead showing genuine interest in her life and her background. 

Every so often, Y/N would catch Harry looking down at her. He’d check in on her, his gaze soft, making sure she was okay and not feeling overwhelmed. His protective instincts were clear, and she was grateful for it. He didn’t hover, but whenever he could, he’d quietly reassure her with a small smile or a squeeze of her hand under the table.

Despite the lively atmosphere, Y/N felt like she wasn’t just another guest at the table—she was part of the conversation, part of the group. And it was easy to relax into that sense of belonging as the night wore on. Even though she was still a little out of her comfort zone, she couldn’t help but feel more at ease with every passing minute, especially with Harry so nearby.

She laughed at something Sarah had said, a light, genuine sound that felt more natural than she expected. The whole night had been surprisingly fun, and for once, she was enjoying being part of something so lively, instead of shrinking back.  

“So Y/N, what’s Harry like as a boyfriend?” Jamie asked, causing Y/N to freeze in her seat.

Harry’s hand stilled from where it had been drawing invisible circles on her knee. The table seemed to pause, sensing the awkwardness in the air.

“That bad?” Jamie chuckled, trying to lighten the moment.

Y/N’s mind scrambled for the right words. She wasn’t sure how to describe their relationship—things were still new, and they had never really put a label on it beyond "dating." Her mouth felt dry as she fumbled for a response.

“U-um, we’re not— I don’t think—” Y/N stumbled, her face flushing. She didn’t know how to put it into words, not wanting to make things awkward or overthink it.

Before she could continue, Sarah quickly chimed in with a grin, “A better boyfriend than you.”

The entire table burst out laughing, and the tension in the air seemed to lift immediately. Jamie threw his hands up in mock defeat, shaking his head with a smirk.

“Alright, alright. I’ll take the loss. But I’m definitely curious now,” he said, leaning forward. “What makes Harry such a great boyfriend, then?”

Y/N glanced at Harry, meeting his eyes, which were filled with amusement but also a warmth that made her heart skip. "Yeah, Bambi, what am I like as a boyfriend?"

Her lips parted at the question. It was the first time he had referred to their relationship so openly, and the realisation hit her in a way that made her smile nervously.

“Well,” Y/N began, her voice softening as she relaxed, “he’s incredibly thoughtful. He’s always checking in on me, making sure I’m alright, and—he actually listens. He’s not the kind of guy who brushes off what I say or rushes through things. He’s really present.”

Harry’s hand slid over to hers under the table, his fingers intertwining with hers in a quiet show of support. He squeezed her hand gently, his gaze tender, saying everything without needing words.

“And he’s fun,” Y/N added with a light laugh, her nervousness easing. “He doesn’t take himself too seriously, which is honestly one of my favorite things about him.”

Harry’s smile deepened at her words, and there was something in the way he looked at her—like he was asking her a question without saying it aloud. “I love it… Being his girlfriend.” Y/N blushed but Harry’s face widened into a grin, one of his dimples appearing on his cheek. 

The group exchanged knowing glances, clearly enjoying the moment. Alessia raised her glass, her eyes twinkling.

“To Y/N, we wish you all the luck in the world for having to put up with us.” she said, toasting her with a wink.

Everyone joined in, lifting their glasses, and Y/N felt her heart swell at the way Harry’s friends rallied around them. 

. . .

Y/N hadn’t noticed how much Harry had had to drink until his head rested on her shoulder, in the middle of her conversing some more with Sarah and Alessia,  “Think I want to go home Bambi,” He murmured. Y/N pushed his droopy curls back and saw the hazy look in his eye, a lazy smile on his lip, “So pretty,” His lips puckered as he spoke. 

Y/N giggled, “How are we meant to get home silly, you drove us here.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry huffed, “I did didn’t I?”

Sarah chuckled, “We can drop you guys home on the way back to our place. We’ll just tell the valet to keep hold of his car. He can pick it up tomorrow as punishment.” 

Y/N laughed softly, nodding her thanks to Sarah. "That sounds like a good plan," she said, looking down at Harry, whose cheek was now squished adorably against her shoulder. He was humming a tune she couldn’t quite place, the sound low and soothing despite his obvious tipsiness.

Harry’s hand found hers under the table, his fingers clumsily lacing through hers. “Y’ make me the happiest Bambi. ‘M so happy y’ m’ girlfriend.” he mumbled, his words slightly slurred but unmistakably earnest.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, her heart skipping a beat. “That’s a lot of happy,”

“It is isn’t it?” Harry laughs. 

Sarah stood up, grabbing her bag. “Alright, let’s get you two lovebirds home.”

Y/N helped him to his feet. He wobbled slightly, leaning heavily against her. “You’re my favorite person ever, you know that?” he said as they made their way to the exit, his voice loud enough to draw a few amused glances from nearby tables.

“I think I’m starting to get the idea,” Y/N replied, her tone affectionate as she wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.

“I’m hungry,” he announced loudly. “Can we get chips? Or pizza?”

“Let’s get you home first, superstar,” Mitch said, clapping him on the back and making Harry stumble slightly into Y/N.

“You’re my hero,” Harry murmured dramatically as they shuffled toward the car, his arm draped over her shoulder. “You saved me, Bambi. You’re the best.”

“You’re going to think otherwise when you see how many embarrassing photos Sarah and Alessia probably took tonight,” Y/N quipped, her laughter blending with the others’ as they piled into the car.

“Embarrassing?” Harry blinked at her, his expression mock-serious. “Never. I look good in all lighting.”

Y/N shook her head, letting out a laugh as Harry’s head found her shoulder once more. “We’ll see about that in the morning,” she said, her voice fond.

Harry let out a contented sigh. “You smell so nice,” he murmured sleepily.

Y/N giggled, smoothing her hand over his curls. “You’re ridiculous.”

As the car pulled away from the bar, Harry mumbled something about her being “too good for him” before trailing off into a soft snore. Y/N looked down at him, her heart swelling. Even in his drunken, clumsy state, he had a way of making her feel like the most important person in the world.

Once Sarah and Mitch dropped them off right at Harry’s front door, Y/N was left with the daunting task of lugging Harry to his room. He wasn’t exactly helping, his body swaying dramatically as she tried to steady him.

“Harry, you’re not making this easy,” she huffed, half-laughing as he stumbled. By some miracle, she managed to guide him to the bed, where he flopped down—half on the mattress, half on the floor.

“Mission accomplished,” she muttered under her breath, crouching down to untie his laces. But just as she reached for his shoe, he playfully kicked his foot away, his lips curling into a cheeky grin.

“C’mere, Bambi,” he murmured, his voice low and a little slurred.

Y/N stood, brushing off her knees, only to find herself being tugged down onto the bed when he grabbed her wrist. She landed on top of him with a surprised gasp, her hands braced against his chest.

“Harry!” she exclaimed softly, but he didn’t say anything, just looked up at her with those green eyes, hazy but full of something she couldn’t quite describe.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world around them seemed to blur as they gazed at each other, an unspoken connection passing between them. Harry reached up, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The faint smell of alcohol lingered on his breath, but his touch was steady, his expression achingly tender.

“Mean it,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “You make me the happiest.”

Y/N’s heart twisted at the sincerity in his words, her breath catching in her throat. Her lips curved into a soft smile as she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin. “You make me the happiest too, Harry.”

Taglist~

ravenclawmarvel noididnotsignupforthis comicalivy @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @mads3502 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown malf-azx @angeldavis777 fruity-harry he6rtshaker vikiii07 hannah9921 pepperonipastas sideboobrry11 soteric-princess madelinelcl ciriceimpera angelbunny222 dutchtheatrelore tchlamqtsgf hawkinsavclub1983 ironstudentlady tpwk-harry-styles angywritesstuff hstbsl06

[gangplanksorenji]

An Ethical Consideration.

Pairing: IVE’s Yujin x Male Reader

Word Count: 9,124

A/N: The last fic of 2024. Been wanting to write some office-related stuff right now and glad I had the time to do so. Hope y'all like this quick piece of mine and cheers onto the next year ahead! <33

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The weight on her shoulders is the sum of her choices, and it bears the burden of being intact and to be precise eloquently. She’s often mistaken as a model due to her undeniably stunning pulchritude from head to toe as well as her clever mind that's just the cherry on top, and you can’t deny that, but the thing is, she’s a power lesser than you since you’re the more omnipotent one.

Your ego refuses to let her crumble down your defenses whenever you fall for her natural charms and whatnot, yet again, you can’t deny that. Mainly, it doesn’t help with the nature you have with her, always used to assert dominance.

Despite all of these egotistic approaches and hypocritical advances, you still treat her as a human because you’re not that cruel of a person, and even so, letting her be the first one to know what you have in plan for today.

“Schedules, again, Yujin.”

“All over? Today? To—”

“Yes.” You look at her, fixing your necktie with a stern stare that possibly intimidates her. “And yes.”

Standing a little awkwardly beside you, Yujin mutters each of your endeavors, an occupation that seems to strangle the concept of time.

“At 1 P.M., you’ll have a meeting with Mr. Kim and his colleagues, and that will take an hour and a half, presumably. Then, at 3 P.M., you’ll be in a—”

“Wait, wait, Yujin.” She gulps nervously with your words, possibly a little nuanced from what’s her usual demeanor until you chuckled a laugh.

“You are really something else, Yujin.”

She composes herself with her eye contact with yours, and you replied with a mutual action as your reassuring tone possibly relieves her. “W-What do you mean, sir?”

“Come on, I’m just playing with you—you don’t need to repeat it all but you’re just…” You look at her, from her doe eyes to her black heels, and then paint that smile you know that she always loves to see. “A different breed, I guess.”

Yujin smiles, knowing this is all a test and completely reassured. She continues assessing the paperwork lying on the desk and you watch her amusedly, clearly admiring her determination and this little interaction etches a note down your brain.

These are one of her struggles being your secretary, and it’s often making her question her every move nowadays since your mood is often played inside a Russian roulette. Yet on your side, it’s clear that you like to see the subtle anxiety in her eyes and your little, silly fantasies that possibly annoys her.

“Also, one thing, Yujin.” She looks at you, eyes full of anticipation.

“Yes, sir?”

“You can drop the paperworks.” You gesture it with your hands, a smile vibrant towards her even though it’s evidently simple, and she can’t help but feel relieved with your words. “Treat yourself a little, alright?” 

A simple token of gratitude is what made her smile that gleefully. At long last, she won’t be worrying most times, beating herself into that stress that’s always inevitable whenever she’s in your vicinity but it doesn't eliminate the fact that she’s still incredibly doubtful.

“I don’t understand, sir.”

“I mean it, Yujin.” You draw yourself closer but not too much, then stare at those brown orbs of hers to make her feel the sincerity of your words. “Don’t worry for me, for now. Make yourself comfortable, okay?”

She nods and is clearly being reassured with your words. She thanks you for the little token of gratitude, bows at you and walks swiftly immediately, not before stopping on her tracks with her name coming out of your lips, her eyes intrigued. “By the way, come to my office later at 5 P.M., I’ll show you something and don’t worry, you won’t be in any trouble.”

Well, that doesn’t help her at all but your reassuring tone was the indicator, to say the least.

---

You’re just hoping she gets to use her time in the best ways possible, for every second should be worth her time, and you’re just waiting patiently for her and what’s bound to possibly happen.

Frequently checking your watch, you patiently wait for her as the rook takes your queen, near with your king and that’s another checkmate. You’re killing time playing chess online, and knowing you’ll still have some time to spare allows you to decide on this.

“Wow, he’s good.” You murmured as your focus is entirely invested onto what could be your next move as a knock on the door could be audibly heard.

“Come on in.” It’s enough to hear it, and there the figure goes into the room. There’s a high chance that Yujin’s the one that’s going to knock on the door at this given time, three minutes after the clock strikes five and damn right it is.

“Oh sir, I’m incredibly sorry—”

You snap and she shuts herself, eyes wide and a gulp evident. “Don’t apologize, Yujin—take a seat instead.”

Once she hurried to take a seat, you fixed your collar, and composed yourself to possibly intimidate her. Here it starts, and your choice of words reflects the outcomes that may happen.

“You really do surprise me sometimes, Yujin.” Your voice is so close to being unreadable that even Yujin takes a hard time to decipher it. She’s matching your disposition, and clearly anticipating more. “You’re still into those things that we used to do?”

Fuck. Something clicked in her, and she instantly knew the sole reason for her appearance here.

She still denies it, knowing there’s no evidence of the assumption but you know she’s back to her clandestine roots. “S-sir, I can assure you that I’m over whatever you’re possibly thinking.”

“Oh please, Yujin, stop with the lies—”

Knowing how retaliation with words and the defensive approach could absolutely result in anything going against her way, she would opt for an option that could possibly bear the best of outcomes. “Then what is it, sir? What’s this assumption all about?”

She’s slowly raising her tone, failing to cover up her permeating defensiveness as you gestured to calm her down, and let yourself be heard as she’s in clear of any trouble. 

“Yujin, me personally—I’m just saying that I was genuinely baffled that you’re still into that.” Your words work like a charm, getting more loosened up as the soothing atmosphere really eliminates the fact that about denial and lies. “If it’s the others, you could’ve landed onto something hard on the surface but not for me.”

Her gaze fixated towards you with your last words, a smirl curling up your lips as you can see the comfort within her. Yet, there’s still a question lingering in her mind that she can’t contain any longer. 

She gave up knowing it’s not worth it to put a nail on a coffin, yet rather, open it up. “How’d you know, sir?”

She's still anxious and it’s completely normal even with the possibly platonic relationship you’ve built with her because at the end of the day, you’re the one in control, a higher hierarchy. “Well, it’s quite simple, actually?”

There’s probably glint in her eyes, running up the possible reasons of a secret unshackled as her career is probably flashing before her eyes, knowing how your sugar coating is absolutely deceiving at most times. “How s-simple, sir?”

She’s stuttering but that didn’t stop you, and it’s cruel to know how bittersweet these events can get but you need to address it, and add a possible way to bring something back to life.

You push the seat away from you as you stand up, now going towards her and breaking that suspense that’s lingering right from the start when she steps foot onto your office. “Wonyoung reported me about your naughty desires when all eyes aren’t watching you, clearly moaning my name and still fantasizing about me, hm?”

Oh, the sabotage. You know how it can possibly hurt her to hear those words come out of your mouth, but that’s the truth and right when Yujin is coming to defend her actions, you pull up a trick on your sleeve that could easily dismantle her attempts to dismiss the truth.

The recording plays, loud and clear, her voice calling you lustfully and god, it’s breaking her, piece by piece.

“Wha—”

“It’s hard, Yujin—I know, but at least keep it within yourself probably, you know?” Now, you’re just hitting her critically, opposing the reassurance you enlightened her with earlier. She’s looking down, defeated and apologetic and you’re sympathetic with her vulnerable state. “Oh please, look at me, Yujin.”

You inch closer towards her, tilt her chin up, looking at you endearingly with a plea loud in each second she stares at you, as you continue. “Enjoy your break, Yujin. We’ll talk later for more. I’m clearly disappointed.”

You give her way towards the door as she stands up quickly, on the verge of tears, sniffling with a loud thud of steps. As she’s about to reach for the door handle, your voice interrupts her, feeling like a deja vu from earlier. “Clearly disappointed to know I wasn’t there to aid you.”

Those words struck hee like lightning, piercing through her like a sword as it hit too well, letting her feel rivaled and frozen. You walk towards her, a smile curling up your lips as she turns around with a quizzical expression. “What do you mean, sir?”

“You know what that means, Yujin.” Your hands are quick to pull her dangerously close toward you, making her yelp with your actions and she’s clearly processing what’s currently happening yet jovial knowing this could end up something elevated that what she was expecting.

You’re now facing her, nose a mere inch away as you whisper. “Now let me show you what you really need.”

God, it’s a sight to behold. You immediately pull her and latch your lips with hers, exchanging torrid pecks that define the hunger and deprivation between the both of you.

You’ve been in your cage for so long and for the longest time possible, you missed these moments with Yujin and you can’t let that opportunity slide. You tug onto the hem of her blazer as you admire her outfit, and teased with how it’s clearly against the dress code. “Feeling really stylish, as always.”

“Hope you liked it, sir.”

“I really do, Yujin.” Then, you continued with the sloppy exchanges, clearly savoring each second you latch onto hers as her plum lipstick accentuates her given scrumptious taste, letting you yearn for more and she reciprocates so swiftly.

It was a quick descent and possibly all according to plan, but you can’t deny the fact that a possible friendship can be ruined between such close friends, but for now, all these things are set aside as your focus is entirely averted towards Yujin.

One, two—fuck, she’s a great kisser.

And so are you, possibly.

---

These events really took a wild turn, and not even two minutes of such a lustful exchange, comes the comfortability of both parties, even descending down to the madness of lust, and the first victim that falls onto that is Yujin, clearly vocal about how she missed getting that taste of your succulent shaft.

“You really want to suck my cock, huh?” She can’t help herself with the thoughts in her, absolutely telling her to give in to her carnal desires and she does so.

Yujin just falls onto her knees, a loud thud audible as she can’t help herself but just be drunk with the thought of slobbering all over your length. “Please, sir—I need your cock—to taste it.”

“Wrong name, Yujin.” You tug her ponytail, earning a yelp from her as bites her lips, subtly liking the way you’re rough on her.

“Sorry, daddy—I just can’t help it…” And so, you gave her mercy, even with just the precious seconds left to spare.

You smirk, looking down and eventually seeing the lust behind those adorable, doe-like eyes that resembles how she’s undeniably ruinable whenever she pulls up this look.

“Oh, Yujin…” You lift her head up with a finger on her chin, chuckling as your sinister plans are starting to choreograph the possible actions you can do to ruin your secretary on your professional grounds as this can be considered somewhat ethical at your own words. “I’m going to make you choke all over my dick so bad that the only thing you’ll remember on the whole day we’re here is the taste of it, and mark my fucking words.”

Fuck. Yujin mutters and gulps, because your tone permeates sincerity and there’s no way on god’s green earth you’ll never fulfill those promises, not when Yujin is kneeling down so submissive and entirely begging to be sullied.

“That’s what I want to hear, daddy.”

The falling consonants escaping her lips ignites something within you, and you’re throbbing just hearing her voice being sultry, aching to be freed. You are unable to take it anymore, and Yujin knows how much you need to be relieved even if it gets so risky. “Do the honors, my Yujin, now.”

You’re really demanding, and she fulfills it within a heartbeat.

Yujin unbuckles and frees every bit of clothing that deprives her with the view of insatiability, hungry and yearning to get herself a hold of her desired prize. She’s swift and deft with it, hands skating through the confines like it’s nothing and that’s what you like about her—the lingering confidence that no one else can match, and she’s bold and audacious with a care towards you only. As selfish as that sounds, why would it matter when it’s Ahn Yujin that’s in front of you and possibly, worshiping you.

The last bit of defense, your boxers, and it’s going to be deemed useless as her hands tug on it and give you that submissive look. “Promise me that you’ll be rough for me, daddy.”

There are two reasons why is this extremely rhetorical: first, with a girl oozing with hotness and a body built to be ruined, how can you not think of something so ludicrous and utterly aiming to ruin her living life out of her; and second, preferably last, she always wants to be pounded and controlled to oblivion, putting in her place, just like the usual pursuits that sparks the risk.

“Always, Yujin—now get that lips on my cock now—want to feel it.” Again, it’s commanding and she likes it a lot.

The encapsulation of her lips around your purplish crown meets the inevitability of moans coming from your lips, her hot, wet flesh being too euphoric to handle. You can bear with the gratification, of course, but the way that she’s applying the pressure whenever her cheeks hollow and the plumpness her lips provide would like to have a word. It feels like your cock is made for her to suck, and she proves it with every second she spends her precious time with, a slobbering mess all over your length. She was quick to be messy, spit already seeping out of her mouth as she held your thighs for a support with her rapidly increasing pace. 

“Jesus, Yujin—this hungry for my dick? Really this bad—fuck!” The question was quick for her to be registered yet she chooses to ignore it, occupied with the devotion of giving the utmost pleasure and fulfilling her needs of tasting you.

“I asked you a question, didn’t I?” You tugged her hair, a statement to consider as she pulls away from your saliva-sheathed shaft and catches her breath.

“Yes, daddy—I want y—mmh!” All you need to hear is a single yes to conclude the satisfaction within you and the want in her. She’s quickly muted with your sudden impalement, making her hands grab onto your thighs as she eagerly bobbed her head to prove that she can match your roughness. You grit your teeth, looking down at the sight of a lifetime, groaning with Yujin’s actions as her eyes gaze at yours through the reflection of her glasses, scanning your expressions to tell if you’re loving this or not.

Why would that be a question within her when you’re already moaning with her suction wringing the best bits of pleasure possible? Guess people have their own ways of assurance and Yujin’s ways are something you’d always commend—she always loves to ensure things even if it’s already confirmed to be certain.

When your tip hits the back of her throat, nose flushed onto your lower abdomen and her glasses slightly pressed, that’s when you uttered the hottest moans imaginable, feeling her oral assaults are a battery to invigorated the lust within you.

“God—fuck—how are you always feeling so good, Yujin?” You hands caress her ponytail as she ensues her pace, rightfully sullied then pulling out to state the rhetorical within you.

“Maybe because I’m a sucker for daddy’s cock, that’s why.” The choices of words were simple, yet hot and it’s the way that she delivers it too. Yujin flashed a smile before indulging onto your length again, stroking your base as her hunger speaks loud and clear, actions rapid and pleasurable.

The scene alone inside your office is something like in the pornogrpahic videos that tells the tale of fiction and what’s on the camera yet this is real, as the insatiability between the both of you drew towards this madness. Knowing that you keep your promises and wanting to make things elevated, you flashed a sinister smile before tapping Yujin’s cheeks poking with your length, and then she pulled out yet again, whimpering with the sudden depravity.

“What now, daddy?”

“I’m going to make a mess outta you, starting with this tight throat.” Your words are laced with lust and the venom that stings her to bite onto your commands, and eagerly anticipates what you’ll do next. You take a hold of your wet length and direct it inside her tightness yet again, groaning with how warm and pleasurable it is before grabbing her head with both hands and thrusting with an already moderate pace. 

She wants it rough, right? Then you’ll give it to her, even if it takes to break you as long as you get to ruin her innocence and that existing class within her.

She gags when it hits too deep, yet she doesn't stop you, taming her reflex as you invite you with more, digging her hands onto your hips and urging to take what her limits can. She’s fighting you, closing her shut and tight as she takes you was the notion that she’s already reaching her limitations, yet this is not what you trained her for and she knows it.

Without further to do, you let yourself be the one to expand her horizons of the inevitable domination all over her, and this time, you’ll be berserk.

“Open your fucking mouth, Yujin.” You let her jaw be slacked, up for the taking as you relentlessly pound her tight throat, fulfilling your needs and deeply disheveling and leaving her sullied once she leaves the office doors. You pinch her nose, playing with the risky game between asphyxiation and god, she’s struggling and constantly gagging onto your rapid length.

“You always love my cock balls deep into your slutty throat, don’t you?” The mocking gets into her, nodding frantically as your words spill the truth, nothing even close on being a lie.

Yujin’s cheeks flushed red, struggling for oxygen as you let go, letting her breathe through her nose and with a pocket of relief, she took your whole cock with an invigorated stance, standing her ground and not letting herself break. You tug onto her ponytail, surprisingly still bonded even with your relentless pace and ruthless actions and it’s just a great element for leverage, elevating the ruined look she emanates all for your eyes to see, and the glasses she’s constantly wearing is just the cherry on top. She digs her fingers onto your thighs, spit seeping out of the crevices of her mouth and your cock, coating the vicinity of skin around your length.

She wanted this anyway, and you’re just warming everything up.

Her ruined countenance is a sight to be etched within your deepest lobes in your brain, for it’s something stupendous and incredibly monumental. She ruins her own clothing and gags repeatedly, yet it doesn’t matter because as long as you’re molding her throat with the shape of your cock, then you’d say you’re in a triumphant run of domination over Yujin. “Take it all for me, Yujin—god, t-this fucking throat is way too good.”

You can vouch and it’s incredibly factual. You’d want to just warm up your shaft for the magnitudinal display of pleasure that’ll happen later (and it’s going up her tight cunt) yet her throat and her lips would like to speak up, or maybe even adding up to the mess you’re making right now.

Pick a side, and you can’t, but you have to decide yet the pleasure coursing down within you is putting you in a position of indecisiveness.

You continue the ruthless assault against her mouth, chanting her name while you do what you’re best at and your sincere praises towards her is just the cherry on top. Usually, she would be writhing her arms with subsequent gags resonating all over the room but it's surprisingly and genuinely impressive how she takes you better now, yet not the perfected craft you sought her to be and you wouldn’t complain. 

There’s also an additional element of lust that elevates the oral experience, and you cared to address that because of how hot it actually makes her, even more than what you expected.

“Not going to take those off, huh, Yujin?” You cool down your thrusts and let Yujin have the capability to control her pursuits, impaling her with more of what you can offer she pulls out to answer you, catching her breath and painting such a vibrant smile that contradicts the sexual tension lingering in the air.

Her mouth is utterly messy, saliva drips down to her chin as her insatiability towards you didn’t even bother the tiniest bit of modesty to even clean up. “I’d like to see how much you’ll cum knowing this does turn you on more.”

She knows. She fucking knows you. The way she said it so confidently with the smirk painted on her face says a lot, knowing that she’s just inflicting on the wounds of lust within you. She cracks the code open with your subtle kinks that’s profoundly known by her and immediately, she would live up to those fantasies of yours—it’s actually baffling how she knew your little fetishes that no one else can, and she’s absolutely clever reading you like a book.

“You know that I’ll probably destroy these glasses, Yujin.” The warning is audible, falling onto her ears as she continuously teases your tip with her tongue, before setting your insatiability aside and muttering up a reply.

“You probably can consider that you’ll fuck my mouth like it’s my cunt.” She’s not wrong, though, and certainly, that’s bound to happen. “And just so I know, you’re going to give me another set once these are broken because I’m something special, am I?”

It’s a blessing and a curse whenever she gets too cocky—her permeating confidence knowing her words exhibits the truth and it won’t help for your supposed reasonings, yet sometimes, her limits wouldn’t help her much, not when you still have the authority to be in control with a flick of a switch.

“Damn right it is, Yujin… You gave up and relinquished the truth, but you can’t wait up any longer for what’s the reason behind this sinful mess. “Now shut up and let me fuck your mouth.”

“Oh pl–mmh!” It was a mistake once she parted her lips enough to impale her with your cock, yet it’s all bound to happen and embraces every thrust your hips muster. 

The opportunity is taken, instantly ravaging her mouth like it’s your last, tugging on her ponytail that’s holding on thanks with your vice grip onto it. She’s tearing up as you ensued and put her in her place, managing eye contact towards you with a silent plea laced behind those glinting orbs of her for more. She’s gripping your thighs, a leverage that’s still not enough for her to handle your roughness and god, her hands digging you for more tells exactly how she doesn’t want the pace to dissipate.

She’s crazy for this, and you’ll match that freak of hers.

It hits balls deep every time, her glasses almost slipping out and being crushed with your own weight of force being distributed to this sinful endeavor. She grasps your thighs like she’s bound to break, and you’re going to achieve that yet she’s robust and able to take you for she is capable of your pace even with the evident gags and subsequent grips that could probably bruise your skin. 

Your pace never fails to bring her to the weakest, tears flowing down her cheeks as she indulges under your control and you’ll never falter, not when you had enough. The way her throat tightens up once you push your length deeper always sends yourself closer to the promising heights of euphoria and god, she’s just taking everything your hips oscillates. She’s just getting messier with every second that counts, yet she perseveres to prove her worth despite the apparent struggles.

And she delivers, every inch, every thrust, and every goddamn gag—

You pull out and she’s gasping for oxygen, her reddened face tells the story of your roughness and she just flashed a grin, her satisfaction fulfilled choking on a cock like yours.

“God, you’re so fucking messy, Yujin.” Your swears ignites something in her and it’s such a gem to hear profanities coming out of your mouth, because she knows she’s making you crazy and this was just the start of an exhilarating show. You wipe the saliva that escapes out of her mouth and seductively play with those lips of hers, and she knows what’s the reply of such display of lust.

She didn’t waste her breath to mutter a word, but rather, invest in constant hums as she sucks onto your fingers like a lollipop, enveloping that soft flesh and tasting like the sun won’t come up tomorrow. The voracious assault onto your fingers concludes her insatiability towards you, and she’s trying her best to live up to her desires and selfish pleasures.

As she’s incredibly readable, you could only imagine how soaked her cunt is with all of the lingering intimacy.

“God, please—more, daddy—please let me—”

“No.” You caress her cheeks and look at those eyes full of that lustful glint, preparing for what you could possibly do with her. Help her stand up and pin your arms so her back is pressed against the wall, your stare continues to pique her as it lures her in like a trap. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Yujin. Since you took me so well, I might have to consider something to aid your wrongdoings.”

A cunning smile paints you, as her eyebrows furrow in anticipation as her lust puppets her to desperation. “A-And what is that, daddy? Please, I’ll do everything even if it means more than what you can expect of me.”

“Expect? Hah.” A chuckle escapes your lips, and that puzzles Yujin. She’s laughable at that moment given how she’s mostly the epitome of fulfillment, the clear meeting of expectations. “Gladly enough, everything that I could think of links every missing piece so perfectly.”

That’s the beauty of An Yujin—clearly innocent yet determined for every obstacle that gets in her way, even if it means something unethical. But here’s the thing, you orchestrate what’s the order in this room and have the authority to bend what’s considered to be rightfully taken.

In this case, it’s something way too obvious.

“The question is: where do you want it, Yujin?” 

Once those words were said, her eyes immediately averted to your throbbing cock, rock-hard just for her as her hand seizes the opportunity yet you stop her. “Answer me, Yujin.”

“Inside me—just as long as I can feel it, feel you, daddy.” Now, you’ve just broken her and it’s all with a single kryptonite that she always loves to play with and it never fails her to be driven towards insanity.

“Oh, you really want it, huh?” The nod is evident and desperate, and you’re just igniting the fire to tease her further. “Bend over for me, on the desk.”

“But the documents—” Maybe the addressing of concerns should take place in a completely separate hour or day as you don't care if they’ll get all tangled in a huge mess because getting Yujin railed from behind will be your utmost priority. 

“I don’t give a shit, Yujin—we can rearrange them some time.”

“But daddy, it’ll be a—ow!” You’re fed up with her considerate actions because of your selfishness too, a grab on her wrists and a spank is enough to enlighten a statement within her.

Your eyes penetrate daggers through her, and it’s turning her on even more. “I really hate repeating myself, Yujin.”

You really do, and with the grip immediately loosening, she obliges and gets rid of such paperwork and bends over your main desk without any care but you.

“Better. Fucking better.” 

You glance over the helpless, submissive stance Yujin is on, and you’re just running on the possible permutation you can possibly do with her. She holds onto each side of the desk while looking over her shoulder, eagerly anticipating what you have in store with you and you definitely have an abundance of tricks up your sleeves.

“Don’t look back and put your hands behind you, Yujin.” She’s quick and obedient, gladly compliant because this would definitely turn around worse for her if she wasn’t being one. You are quick to grab your belt and she knows what’s possibly going to happen, erratic breaths and chuckles coming out of her mouth are the signs of her building satisfaction.

“God, I always wanted to experience this while you ravage me senseless, daddy.”

“Great thing this is your lucky day.” You wrap your leather belt around her wrists and hold them in place, making sure that Yujin is as helpless as possible before the sinful act commences.

“Too tight?”

“Not really, it’s just right.” She yelps and cries because of a harsh spank as its hypnotic ripple earns that groan from her, deriving pleasure out of your enervating ruthless approach towards her ass. You raise the hem of her skirt up to her waist, and so are those grey-colored shorts just a little to get a delectable view of a backside that could be worth millions, and luckily enough, you’ll be the only to see the wonder of such treasure. 

Your hands roam around her arched butt and those heaven-sent thighs, feeling the smooth, porcelain skin in every inch that just feeds to the hunger you’re having towards her but you have your own composure, a word of modesty and patience that Yujin isn’t bothering to have at these desperate moments. “You know this dress code isn’t really allowed, hm?”

“How so? No one has ever called me out wearing short skirts like these—oh god, right there…” She’s delving nearer onto her breaking point, moaning with your repeated assault towards her supposedly drenched lips through the frustrating fabric, teasing and building up her lust while she fights to be as eloquent as possible. “You n-never said a warning, daddy, let alone implement a rule or a ch—ow! Ohh, fuck!”

“All I’m saying is that you’re being such a slut for wearing one, just to summarize it for you, Yujin.” Your words sting as much as the heavy hits of your palm, marking a familiar rosy hue onto her ass that earns that triumphant smirk on your face.

“But I know you like it, by a lot.”

“Never said I didn’t.” You’re growing impatient because of the possible things that’s running around your mind, and it’s all about how you can totally sully her.

Your eyes darts onto her perfect skin, before tugging onto her shorts which is surprisingly easy to undress, coming off and onto her ankles just with a few seconds (Yujin standing up quickly also helps) and then the last bit of defense against the inevitability—those ruined, black silk thong that’s drenched with juices. Also, those come off and down on her ankles and all of those kicked to god knows where as she can’t help but moan with the sensitivity she’s currently feeling, and she likes being defenseless and being totally handled by you.

She never looked great being incredibly submissive and she’s perfectly built to be like this.

Amongst all of the foreseeable futures that could happen, one by one they are eliminated, until only three had made it to the final cut as these are the things that can go so right for the both of you: you could curse her satisfaction with your fingers teasing her tight cunt, on the edge of breaking apart and make her cum effortlessly; could invest onto some returned favor, your lips eating those succulent holes of hers as she writhes with the wetness you bring; and lastly (being the most cruel and pleasurable act you can possibly do), a finger, knuckle deep into her asshole and teasing her tightness with your own length.

Yet, with all of the articulative thinking, you can’t help but let your patience run thin and do what you promised earlier on—to let her see stars, ruin her entirely.

You nudge your cock onto her waiting heat, and immediately, you halt the agonizing reprieve as it is sheathed inside without a warning, knowing she can take it all despite her helpless state. At this rate, Yujin would be gripping both ends of the desk yet with the belt around her wrists and your hand holding her in place, she could just writhe and moan your name out uncontrollably as she gives everything in, and you control her.

Thanks to her slick juices, it wasn’t hard to accommodate yourself onto a moderate thrust that she grew accustomed to once you keep assuring and complimenting her, even if it comes out as a profanity.

“Not bad for a slut like you, Yujin—god, do you like this, hm?” You’re refraining to voice out how great she fucking feels around your cock, and let your mind savor the sight of her powerless figure dependent for your handling. 

“Yes, y-yes—oh fuck, yes, daddy—it’s so good, so good!” Her strained voice, stuttering and alluring is what invites you for a harsher pace. The both of you are mutually gratified with each other’s actions, and you can’t help but groan her name too in every thrust you do, now filling her up.to the hilt and withdrawing with just your tip inside. It is hard yet moderately paced, just how you like it for now, and knowing how this possibly defeats what Yujin likes, you don’t want her to wail and break apart within your own eyes.

Wait, she is calling you and pleading with you—that’s the sign, she wants more.

“Harder, daddy—please.” Of course you’ll fulfill that as soon as possible. You pull the belt towards you, letting her hands meet your abdomen and pound her tight cunt with a power greater than before. Every clash of your hips to her butt resonates this sound that’s the epitome of candy in your ears, and it’s just going to get better, knowing that with the profound kisses you do on her nape makes her clench even harder and wringing out the best of all pleasures.

She cries and you hum onto her skin, continuously worshipping her as her moans with your repeated actions set the fire in you, as well as her constant compliments that you know would be inevitable.

“You lips—g-god, you kiss me so good, daddy—oh shit…”

Your lips are dangerously close to her ears now, as you whisper, “And you take me so well—this tight cunt is really for my cock.”

Well, it probably is, considering how every thrust molds to the shape of your shaft lives up to your words. She’s incredibly tight and slick, even with the constant ravaging and it’s just getting way better knowing that she’s not showing any signs for you to slow down nor stop, letting you go berserk on living up to both your likings. It’s possibly painful to know that your eyes can’t get that hypnotic sight of her thighs rippling and as much as you like kissing her backside, you can’t afford to lose an opportunity with an angelic view.

“Grab the desk, Yujin. I’m gonna fuck you harder now.” Now loosening the grip of the belt around her wrists, she immediately leveraged with a painful grip onto each end of the desk as you didn’t slow down and continued your igniting fervor. She’s trembling once she grabbed onto both ends, thighs shaking due to your actions as her mouth spills honey-filled moans with the pleasure spiking up on her spine, and through her veins. 

Now, you have the everlasting sight to behold—the recoil of her skin with your thrusts is a vision to be etched within the deepest parts of your brain, and you’d live every moment seeing her like this. You painfully grip her hips, pounding her harshly to the point that the desk is even responding to your ruthlessness, but you don't care, not when she’s still coherent, able to walk and most of all, not cumming all over you.

These are just the multiple goals you'd eventually achieve, and it’s getting pretty near considering how her lips pulsate and drenches with copious amounts. She’s now creating a miniscule puddle onto the floor and the small rivulets on her thighs full of her nectar, and you’d eventually double that given how hard you’re fucking her and god, she’s crying and far from the An Yujin everybody knows.

“God, fuck—da-ddy, p-please—let me cum—let me cum, I’m s-so fucking close—oh god, oh god, p-please!” It continues like this, a jumble of words due to the skyrocketed pleasure she’s experienced and you know she’s dangerously close, and you’re just there to pull the trigger sooner.

She lets out a primal cry, and you seal her fate.

“Cum for me, Yujin.” Simple words yet enough to break a woman like her.

She’s practically gushing onto your fingers as you rub them out to reach her climax and she does so, spilling the borderline screams of pleasure that is caused by you, and she’s basically elevated way past her euphoric trance. 

Her knees tremble due to her orgasm, and whisper onto her ear while still pounding her through it since she wanted this in the first place. “You know, Yujin—I would have just fucked your tight ass if we have some lube, want to see your cunt gushing out while I ravage your tight hole.”

You’re not yet finished and your words immediately made her clenched so tightly that it made you groan in the middle of your sentences, but that doesn’t stop you from enlightening her with your fantasies. “God—both of your holes are fucking tight—guess I’d just make this pussy cum all over again while you could only imagine how my cock would slide so good inside you, hm?”

Your words do make her squirm uncontrollably, a key to the door of madness as you didn’t waste time increasing the pace and getting back to the roots of how this goes. Knowing how much you want her to reach another inevitable high, you opted for a leverage on her end, offering your fingers for her to such as she eagerly does so, tasting you and humming in need as every second passes by. You make her choke with your own digits, and she slurps each time she does so, yearning to impress you and to voice out how much she loves these miniscule actions to fight against the pleasure.

“P-Please, daddy…” She cries for you, letting her catch her breath as your thrusts are constant, deep, and unforgiving.

“Say i-it, Yujin—please for what?” You need that answer escaping those sinful lips of hers, you need it desperately, even if her voice is broken for all of the vocals she bestowed.

“Fuck—f-fuck me, daddy, please!” 

It’s the constant chant of the same sets of phrases and words and you can’t blame her, not when you’re absolutely fucking her like you do mean it. She can’t think straight, possibly seeing stars at this moment as her nectar spills into rivulets yet again, the mess currently spoiling the marble floor that didn’t concern you.

“My office is gonna smell like sex thanks to you, Yujin.” You let out that primal call, a satisfied one as her clenches aids more with the pleasure you’re currently experiencing. “And I’m—I’m fucking close, Yujin.”

The stream of constant moans ends up on a halt, as Yujin still has the coherence to think and break the loop of words, pleading as she tightens her grip on the desk. “On my face, please, daddy—you can’t cum inside me yet, not here!”

Oh, she now has this courage to utter words against your possible wants, and honestly, that’s commendable yet you didn’t like it and not when you’re in the peak of the hierarchy, in the absolute authority of things.

“And why not? Also, girls like you deserve a load inside their tight cunts, no matter what the circumstance.” No one could probably argue against you, not when her walls clench for you to fill her up, even though it’s against her wants yet again, you are the dominant one, the power to control and bend towards your will.

You didn’t utter a word and ramped up the pace again, and this time, you’ll do everything to feel every ounce of pleasure as much as possible. Yujin’s face contorts into that familiar countenance of being cock-drunken, yet you break that trance with a hand on her chin, making her face towards you and then again, you meet those luscious lips of hers that’s entirely insatiable.

You pull her close and continue to pound her tightness, humming on your reciprocation and her lips quivering in pleasure, chasing that high of yours that’s bound to spill into the depth of her tight walls. She tastes so great you can’t pull away just yet, closing your eyes and feeling how soft her lips are and when you do, you bring the final onslaught of thrust that’s possibly going to break her in half, moaning on how good you’re making her feel.

“Fuck—f-fuck, daddy—I’m gonna cum too—so close!” At long last, she’s a hair’s width onto her own high and being in the same boat as yours, and this couldn’t be any better.

“Fucking cumming again? Hah, then we’ll cum together then—gonna fill this pussy up so good, Yujin.” It’s surprising how coherent you are even though you’re as stimulated as Yujin but it doesn’t matter, not when your primal instincts are the ones that powers you to achieve that euphoria.

You dug your hand onto her hips, spreading her legs more to go deeper and god, you can’t possibly survive another set of thrusts on the count of five.

That familiar tingle firing you up was the call, and you impaled yourself deep into her snug walls, filling her with every spurt your slit can possibly deposit. She’s wailing, calling you and yearning for more as her brain can’t possibly fathom the utmost pleasure she’s experiencing and you’re just giving it all, giving what she desires right from the start.

She’s thanking you, a cry that could break you but in a different, unorthodox way that relies on the scope of lust. “Jesus—fuck, why are you always so goddamn tight, Yujin?”

It’s rhetorical and she knows it—she’s aware of what she can do to you, and even in a submissive frame, she can absolutely break you apart. You kept your length buried in her for a longer while, possibly extending the pleasure that’s beating your brain in a mush, and eventually, the inevitable could not be stopped. You pull out and let out exasperated breaths, admiring with the wonder of your roughness evident with your red handprints, and as the cherry on top, her cunt dripping with your anticipated load.

There’s still that gas left in the tank, a fuel burning and igniting for more and you can’t let it become idle.

“Thank—o-oh fuck—thank you for this, daddy…” Yujin’s chants are a constant ringing in your ear, her moans subsiding as she recovers from her own high, assessing how great you feel with your load deep inside her.

Your hubris never fails to fuel you up too, and you’re far from over.

“You remember me saying I’m going to fuck you rough, Yujin?” You’re demanding, incredibly primal and wanting more of what she can offer. She can sense it as she looks onto her shoulder only for you to guide her and flip her around, now facing you with your eyes evidently distracted with her leaking cunt. “And really mean it, because you're going to take more.”

Her eyes darted towards you, glowing, endeared, and laced with lust. She wanted this for weeks and now, she’ll get to feel your wrath once more, and this time, it would be way better than before since you’ll see how beautiful her face contorts whenever she succumbs to the pleasure, on even her moans to the very least.

It’s one of the robust parts of the pillars that builds up your concupiscence, and it’s the strongest amongst them all—her sultry tone says it all, and it’s just making you descend down to your own madness.

“Gonna breed me like the desperate girl I am, daddy?”

“Correction,” Your hands deftly find her waist, drawing her frame closer to you as she yelps with your sudden control, then smiles knowing she’s going to be put in her place. “A desperate slut.”

Yujin is still leaking, thighs stained in the right places with indistinguishable liquids caused by you and you’ll stand proud for the product you just made. Still with the skirt pulled up on her waist, you lifted her legs a little as she relaxes herself onto your desk—it’s pretty surprising how sturdy this is and probably, you’ll invest onto some greater furniture in the latter weeks, if ever—and teased your rock-hard shaft against those sullied, white-stained slit of hers, which earned another set of needy moans that’s clearly aphrodisiac in nature.

You’d never shut up how great she sounds, and you’re growing impatient by the second you tease her heat.

“Please, daddy—please put it in again…” Both of her arms extend down your shoulders, hands resting on your neck and caressing it, urging you to comply with her needs and she doesn’t need to plead more because you’re definitely in a losing battle of discipline.

Why would you even bother thinking of such a concept in this filthy endeavor? Yes, you won’t, and you’ll dismiss it.

It’s another sudden action, you buried deep, withdrew and slammed back in, repeating the harshness you bestowed upon her earlier but this time, you’re feeling everything and even better, see how pretty she looks when she’s blessed with the constant overwhelming pleasure. You grabbed her hips and impaled her deeper, your cum leaking repeatedly out of her tightness as it stained everywhere in its vicinity—you’d probably have this dilemma of cleaning your workspace once you’re done with her, but you wouldn’t care until she’s fucked senseless, her mind thinking of you and you only.

You’d intend on doing that, and with your stored-up strength, you’re able to lift her with your arms and pinned her onto the nearest wall where you’re in full pace on revving up your thrusts with abandon, letting out the most sinful moans of satisfaction Yujin can produce. You’re in the same boat as hers, utterly succumbing into the abyss of gratification and constantly grunting with how great she still feels, tight in the right places, possibly molding her walls onto the shape of yours. 

It’s genuinely hard to comprehend her unparalleled tightness despite the pounding she took earlier and that’s just elevating the pleasure you experience as always, dismissing that sensitivity that once took over your length. You hold her frame with your hands on her waist, her legs wrapping around yours as you achieved greater depths that resonated magnitudes of different cries of pleasure. You catch her lips again, holding her chin upright as the both of you exchange torrid kisses, hungry for each other and utterly leveraging the unstoppable pleasure each of you brings to the table.

It’s the sound that she makes while making up with you, and you’ll never get tired of it, not when she’s dancing her tongue against yours, and attempting to mutter words that fail to be audible with how much you’re investing on dancing with her. Her legs instinctively pull you closer, and can’t help but groan against her lips on how much she clenches between every thrust your hips muster. 

“Are you getting close again, Yujin?” Your breaths come right after, clearly anticipating on achieving her ultimate prize once again, letter her see stars let alone galaxies with how much exertion you bring onto pounding her. Her legs are falling limp, tired with the monstrosity you’re doing but neither of you will have any regrets, and the closest thing to have a thought like that is if someone sees you and there’s no world anyone would have an eye of a trusted, hierarchical man of the company ruining her secretary.

Oh, curse these ethical bullshit and your reputation, because you’ll fulfill your utter desires before you can call this a day.

“I can’t h-hold–oh fuck—so good! Can’t hold it anymore, daddy…” She’s just desperate for another release, and you’re inching closer towards your promised land. She’s bound to feel something so euphoric, and it’s all mutual, even up to the point where you fill her up to the brim. You’re gaining every ounce of strength to wrap herself around you  and a bright idea sparked within you despite all of the thoughts within you spiraled up, all tangled and in haywire.

Before the unexpected detour, she could just moan onto your neck, resting her head against your shoulder and chasing her high, messing up the floor and your thighs with her succulent nectar. Your workplace being stenched with the smell of sex will be the least of your concerns in this current affair, but rather the fact that you can’t see a pulchritude broken into something sullied, and your mind currently emptied, just with the thought of making herself her own canvas.

“What—what are you d-doing?” Yujin is limp once she stands on her feet, messed up thanks to you as her puzzled face is evidently confused with what you’re having it in your mind. Still recovering and gaining that semblance of urgency, she anticipates what you’ll utter and it wouldn’t be long.

“Remember what you said earlier about your favorite pair of yours?” Even with the stupor clearly shown, she’s still articulative and bright, grasping with what you’re trying to make her remember and just flashing that innocent grin with the thought of it.

“Oh god, yes.” She’s quick with it, instantly dropping down onto your knees, legs quivering as she looks up at you, her eyes glistening with what you’re going to shower her with. “Would like to see my favorite pair covered with your cum, daddy.”

God, she knows, she fucking knows.

You didn’t hold back, and she’s sticking her tongue out and closing her eyes, letting her imagination roll upon what could be the most erotic sight that could happen between the both of you. It’s turning you on even more, clearly focused on chasing your high with the velocity your wrists are doing and eventually, it wouldn’t be long enough for her to be deprived of it.

It’s a decent shower, not excessive but god, it’s just right. Her messy bangs got caught off on the process, a little stained and you did what you could to seal the promise, her nose, mouth, chin and most importantly, the scaffolding of her glasses, stained with that white liquid that’s drained out of you.

To be honest, you clearly forgot the existence of such an element, but glad you’re able to cover it and fulfill her needs.

“Fuck—god.” Yujin’s breaths are erratic, still kneeling down and scooping the remnants of your cum and tasting, undeniably satisfied with the outcome. “Considering the load in my pussy, you still came a lot.”

It’s still surprising how she sounds so confident saying such sinful words, but being still in the trance, you wouldn’t mind it so much. “Dropping the names, huh?”

“Oh, sorry—”

“Hey, hey, it’s totally fine, Yujin.” Still managing to display humor, she laughed it off in relief, dropping the act and exchanging exhausted breaths in every second that counts.

“Well, I guess we should clean up, sir.” You help her stand up, legs trembling as she laughs it out and reassures you that everything is going to be fine.

“Yeah, we should, I’ll call up my—”

“No sir—” Her hands stop you from grabbing your phone on the desk, unharmed, and you’re painting shock with her actions.

“Why?”

Yujin stares at you, removing the cum-stained glasses and onto the desk and you can clearly see what she’s made of, a monster in the making. “Just us, please, sir—at your place.”

That’s a bold move, but considering what happened, it wouldn’t be much of a deal as you drop the hierarchical advantage you possess. “There’s still another hole you haven’t stretched yet.”

The wink was the cherry on top and you swear to god, this girl will break you, possibly into millions of pieces more.

You need to fix yourselves up first, and with the obviously influenced and hurried decision, it was damn sealed in the history books.

“How can I resist that?” Your chuckles reflect your masked answer, and clearly, she knows what’s bound to happen. “Guess tomorrow’s going to be your day off then.”

She broke you, and it’s mutual between both parties. Possibly, the threat of a tension between Wonyoung and herself would break apart with this profound comeback of such roots yet who knows? 

These hours have been stressful and quick, but nonetheless, absolutely phenomenal and baffling…