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kole-cooler · 24 days ago

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Take it or Leave it

Shin Yuna x male reader

word count: 9K

It’s Friday night, and the week’s been a grind—exams looming, group projects sucking the life out of you, the usual college chaos. Your phone’s been buzzing on and off with Yuna’s texts all day, starting with some dumb meme about a cat in a wig, then escalating to her dropping flirty little jabs like “u surviving without me or what?” You play along, firing back with your own sarcastic quips, but deep down, it’s gnawing at you. The way she struts across campus like you’re a ghost, not even a flicker of eye contact when her squad’s around, it’s like you’re her dirty little secret. And yeah, maybe you are. Four months of this shit—her sneaking over, the two of you tangled up in your sheets—and still, you’re nothing to her out there. But tonight, she’s coming over again, and your stomach’s already twisting, half from want, half from dread.

The doorbell chimes, and there she is, bursting through the frame like she owns the place, her voice spilling out before the door’s even shut. “Oh my god, you won’t believe what Chaeryeong said to me today—she’s so extra, I can’t,” she’s rattling on, tossing her bag onto your couch like it’s her second home. You catch a good look at her, and fuck, she’s dialed it up tonight. She’s wearing this black satin slip dress, short enough that it’s riding the line between bold and reckless, the hem cutting off mid-thigh to show off those legs that could kill a man. The fabric’s got this subtle shimmer, clinging to her slim waist and flaring out over her hips—those wide, perfect hips that you’ve memorized by now. A cropped leather jacket’s slung over her shoulders, unzipped, giving it that effortless cool-girl edge, and underneath, the dress dips low, a little lace trim peeking out where it teases her chest. Her hair’s loose, dark waves spilling down her back, and she’s got these chunky silver hoops glinting when she moves. It’s sexy as hell, provocative without trying too hard, but chic enough that she could pull it off anywhere. She’s a walking Instagram post, and she knows it.

She spins around mid-sentence, all that energy zeroing in on you, and before you can blink, she’s bounding over, arms outstretched like she’s about to pull you into her orbit. Her lips are glossy, puckered for that kiss she always lands on you the second she walks in—half playful, half claiming. But tonight, you don’t budge. You just stand there, hands shoved in your pockets, jaw tight, letting her momentum crash into your stillness. Her lips hover an inch from yours, and you see the flicker of confusion in her eyes when you don’t lean in. She pulls back a little, tilting her head like a puppy who’s been denied a treat. “What’s up with you?” she says, half-laughing. You take a breath, feeling the weight of everything you’ve been swallowing for weeks piling up in your chest. “Yuna, we need to talk,” you say, voice low but steady, and her whole vibe shifts—she steps back, crossing her arms under that damn dress, her jacket sliding off one shoulder, and she’s staring at you now, lips parted, waiting for the bomb you’re about to drop.

“Maybe we should just stop seeing each other,” you say, letting the words drop like a brick on the hardwood floor. She freezes, her arms still crossed, that leather jacket slipping further down her shoulder. “What?” she says, voice spiking with disbelief. You shift your weight, rubbing the back of your neck, and say it again, slower this time, “I think we should stop this, Yuna. Whatever this is.” Her brows knit together, and she steps closer, heels clicking on the floor—she’s still got those strappy sandals with heels on, the ones that tie up her calves like she’s some goddess descending from Olympus. “Why the hell would you say that?” she asks, and her tone’s sharp now, like she’s daring you to keep going.

So you do. You let it all spill out, raw and messy, like you’ve been holding it in too long and the dam’s finally busted. “Because I’m sick of feeling like shit, okay? At college, you act like I don’t exist—like I’m some random dude you barely know. I’m busting my ass with these classes, trying to keep up, and then there’s you, waltzing around with your crew, pretending I’m not even on your radar. But here? In my apartment? It’s all good, right? You’re all over me, and I’m supposed to just be cool with that split? Nah, it’s fucking with me.” She blinks, lips parting like she’s about to interrupt, but you push on. “I’m starting to feel like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me—like I’m some loser you’d never admit to touching. It’s like I’m just your little plaything you pull out when you’re bored or horny, and I’m done with it.” Your chest’s heaving by the end, and you can feel the heat creeping up your neck, but it’s out now, no taking it back.

Yuna’s staring at you, and for a second, you think she might actually get it. But then she rolls her eyes, tossing her hair back with a little huff. “Oh my god, chill out. This is just a casual thing—we’re not dating, you know that. Why are you catching feelings over something that’s not even serious?” She uncrosses her arms, gesturing with her hands like she’s trying to wave your words away. “I’m not embarrassed of you. I just don’t see why it’s a big deal.” You laugh, but it’s bitter, hollow. “Not a big deal? Yuna, it’s not simple for me. I can’t just switch it off like you do. And yeah, maybe you’re not embarrassed, but it sure as hell feels that way when you won’t even look at me in public. Like that time I came up to you when you were with your friends—middle of the quad, broad daylight—and I asked about the project? You brushed me off, said, ‘Text me about it,’ and walked off without a second glance. Didn’t even introduce me, didn’t even pretend I was worth a damn to you. I felt like a fucking idiot.”

Her face shifts—she remembers that day, you can tell by the way her lips twitch, but she doubles down anyway. “I’ve always treated you fine! I come over, we hang out, we have fun. I don’t get why you’re making this a thing.” She’s pacing now, sandals clicking again, her dress swishing with every step. You shake your head, leaning against the counter to steady yourself. “If it’s not a thing, then why can’t you talk to me out there? Why’s it always gotta be this secret shit? I’m telling you, it’s better if we end it here. You can find some other guy to mess around with—someone who’s cool with being your shadow.” That flips a switch in her. Her eyes narrow, and she stops pacing, planting herself right in front of you. “Oh, please,” she snaps. “You’re the one who’s pissed because I won’t parade you around like some trophy. What, you think I’m using you? Maybe you’re the one chasing me, trying to ride my coattails because I’m popular and you’re—what—just some nerd who got lucky?”

You can’t help it—you laugh again, loud and sharp, cutting through her bullshit. “That’s rich, Yuna. Yeah, I’m totally the one taking advantage here. I’m the one sneaking over to your place, right? Oh wait, no, that’s you.” She glares, cheeks flushing pink, and you can tell she’s not used to this—being called out, being rejected. She steps closer, voice dropping low. “You’re ruining my night, you know that? I was so pumped to come over, kick back, watch that stupid horror movie you’ve been on about. I even brought snacks—those sour gummy worms you like.” She points at her bag on the couch, like that’s supposed to fix everything. You smirk, leaning in a little. “Yeah, and you were also pumped to fuck me, right? That’s the routine—movie, snacks, then you’re climbing on top of me like clockwork.” Her jaw drops, and she looks genuinely offended, hand flying to her chest. “Wow, rude much? It’s not like you’re complaining in the moment—you’re just as into it as I am!”

And that’s the kicker. The way she moves, the way she tastes, the little gasps she lets out when you’ve got her pinned under you—it’s like a hit of something strong, something you can’t shake. “Yeah, I am,” you admit, voice quieter now, “and that’s the problem. It’s too good, Yuna. You’re too good. It’s like a drug, and I’m hooked, and that’s why I’ve gotta cut it off before I’m in too deep.” She stares at you, lips parted, and for once, she doesn’t have a comeback ready.

The silence stretches out for a beat too long, and then Yuna’s voice cuts through it, soft and low. “Okay, fine… if that’s how you feel, then this’ll be the last time.” She’s looking at you with those big, dark eyes, and there’s something in them—maybe a flicker of hurt, maybe just stubbornness—but it’s enough to make your stomach twist. You shake your head, leaning back against the counter, hands gripping the edge. “Nah, Yuna, I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’re trying to end this, not drag it out.” She steps closer, her sandals clicking softly, and her voice firms up, sharper now, like she’s made up her mind. “No, listen—I’m here, right? I didn’t haul ass across town for nothing. Let’s make it the last fuck, then. One more, just to say goodbye proper.” She’s right in front of you now, close enough that you can smell her perfume—and it’s hitting you hard, stirring up that familiar ache.

She reaches out, her fingers brushing your chest through your shirt, light but deliberate, and it’s like a jolt straight to your core. You clench your jaw, trying to hold your ground, keeping your hands locked on the counter so you don’t give in and grab her. “Come on,” she murmurs, leaning in, her lips hovering near your ear, breath warm against your skin. “Please, I know you want it too. Don’t make me beg.” Her hand slides lower, grazing your stomach, and your resolve’s crumbling fast. You sigh, loud and ragged, and before you can stop yourself, your hands are on her hips, pulling her closer. “Fuck it,” you mutter, voice rough, “this is the last time, Yuna. The farewell fuck, that’s it.” She’s already nodding, her lips crashing into yours, hungry and messy, and between kisses she’s gasping, “Yeah, last time, promise.” You’re tugging that leather jacket off her shoulders, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud, and she’s pressing herself against you, all heat and curves.

You stumble toward the couch, half-guiding, half-dragging her, and she’s giggling—low and breathy. You collapse onto the cushions, pulling her down with you, and she lands on your lap, straddling you for a split second before you roll her under you. Your mouth’s on her neck, kissing and nipping at that soft spot just below her jaw, and she lets out this little sigh—half moan, half surrender—that sends a shiver down your spine. Your hands slide up her sides, finding her small, perky tits through that satin dress, squeezing just enough to make her arch into you. “Goddamn, you’re too much,” you mutter against her skin, and she laughs, tugging at your shirt. You pause, sitting up to yank it over your head, and her eyes rake over you—chest, abs, the whole deal. “You’re so fucking hot,” she says, grinning, reaching out to run her nails lightly down your stomach. It’s cheesy as hell, but it still gets you—except tonight, you’re not in the mood for her commentary.

“Shut up,” you say, diving back in to kiss her hard, swallowing whatever smartass reply she’s got lined up. Your tongue’s in her mouth, and she’s melting under you, but then she pulls back just enough to whisper, “Gonna be tough—I can’t keep quiet when you’re fucking me. You know you love it when I get loud.” She’s right, and that’s the problem—her voice, those little gasps and whines, they’ve got hooks in you, and tonight you need this to be clean, primal, no strings. “Then I’ll keep your mouth busy,” you shoot back, smirking, and you shift off her, sitting up. “Get on your knees.” She doesn’t hesitate, sliding off the couch with this wicked little gleam in her eyes. Before she drops, she reaches down, shimmying that black satin dress up over her head in one smooth motion—leaving her in just a lacy black thong and those sandals still strapped around her ankles. The sight of her—tan skin, curves bare and glowing in the low light—almost knocks the air out of you.

You’re on your feet now, kicking off your jeans and boxers in a rush, and your cock springs free, already hard as hell, aching from just the thought of her. She’s kneeling in front of you, looking up with that mix of defiance and want that’s pure Yuna, her hair spilling over her shoulders, framing her face. “Last time, huh?” she says, voice teasing, but there’s a tremble in it—like she’s feeling the weight of it too. You don’t answer, just step closer, and she reaches for you, her fingers brushing your length before you tangle a hand in her hair, guiding her where you want her. The room’s quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the sound of your breathing, and you know this is it—the final hit of her before you try to quit cold turkey.

You’re standing there, one hand still tangled in her dark hair, the other gripping the back of the couch for balance, and you look down at her—kneeling, bare except for that skimpy thong and bra—and you can’t help but feel the weight of this moment. “Memorize it good, Yuna,” you say, voice rough, edged with something raw. “This is the last time you’re getting anywhere near my cock, so make it count, 'cause you're gonna miss it.” Her eyes flick up to meet yours, and there’s this spark in them—part challenge, part hunger—and fuck, it’s like pouring gas on a fire. She doesn’t say anything right away, just leans in closer, and you feel her breath hot against your skin as she drags her nose along the length of you, inhaling deep like she’s savoring it. Then her tongue darts out, slow and deliberate, tracing from the base all the way up to the tip, leaving a wet streak that’s got your knees twitching. She’s kissing it now—soft, teasing little pecks along the shaft, down to your balls, where she lingers, sucking gently, and it’s so damn good you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from groaning too loud. The way she’s working you, it’s like she’s putting on a show just for you, and it’s flipping every switch in your brain.

She pulls back for a second, lips shiny, and smirks up at you. “Goddamn, I’m gonna miss this cock so much,” she says, her voice all husky and low, like she’s confessing some deep, dirty secret. “It’s my favorite, you know? Perfect size, perfect everything. Gonna be a crime not having it anymore.” She’s laying it on thick, and you’re caught between rolling your eyes and getting lost in it because, shit, she knows exactly how to play you. Her hands are on you now, one wrapped around the base, stroking slow while her tongue flicks over the tip, and you can’t tell if she’s for real or just fucking with you to keep you hooked. Either way, it’s working—your dick’s throbbing, and every little move she makes is winding you up tighter. Then she takes you into her mouth, full-on, lips sliding down until you’re hitting the back of her throat, and it’s so wet and warm and tight that your head tips back, a low curse slipping out before you can stop it. There’s nothing in the world like watching her suck you off—those pink lips stretched around you, her cheeks hollowing out, the little slurping sounds she makes like she’s starving for it.

She’s bobbing her head now, steady and deep, but then she pulls off just enough to talk, her hand still pumping you, keeping the rhythm. “You know,” she says, voice muffled around you, “I was so fucking jealous when Yeji dropped that bomb about hooking up with you. Just casual, like, ‘Oh yeah, that guy you doing the project with? We fucked at that party.’ Like it was nothing.” She’s licking you again, long, slow stripes, and her eyes don’t leave yours, like she’s daring you to react. “And then she started going on about your dick—how big it was, how she couldn’t believe I hadn’t jumped you yet. I was standing there, fuming, thinking, ‘No way this bitch gets to have him and I don’t.’ So I made my move—stole you right out from under her nose before she could even think about round two.” She laughs a little, soft and smug, then sinks back down, taking you deep again, and you feel her throat flex around you. “Yeji was cool about it, though—she’s a real one. Said she wasn’t gonna fight me over some guy. Lucky for me, huh?”

You’re barely processing her words, caught up in the heat of her mouth and the way she’s working you like she’s trying to etch herself into your memory. But it’s too much—her voice, her story, the way it’s all tangled up with how you feel. “Shut up, Yuna,” you growl, tightening your grip in her hair, pushing her back down. “Just keep sucking.” She hums around you, obedient for once, and dives back in, harder this time, her tongue swirling over the tip every time she pulls up, her hand twisting in this perfect rhythm that’s got your head spinning. You can see her thighs pressed together, like she’s getting off on this as much as you are, and it’s driving you wild—the idea that she’s this into it, that she’s claiming you in her own fucked-up way. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s making these soft, needy noises that hit you right in the gut. You’re not sure what’s true anymore—whether she’s really gonna miss you or if she’s just spinning a line—but right now, with her on her knees, worshipping your cock like it’s the last time, you don’t give a shit.

Yuna’s relentless, her mouth working you like she’s got something to prove, and she’s not letting up with the dirty talk either. She pulls off for a second, just enough to catch her breath, and she’s grinning up at you, spit glistening on her lips, her tongue flicking out to tease the tip of your cock. “You like this, don’t you?” she purrs, voice all sultry and rough. “Me down here, choking on you, making a fucking mess of myself.” It’s obscene, how perfect she is, all that polished campus-queen vibe turned into something cheap and nasty just for you. “Look at you,” you say, voice low and biting, “you look like a fucking slut right now.” It’s harsh, but it’s true, and you mean every word.

Her eyes light up at that, like you’ve just paid her a compliment, and she lets out this wicked little laugh. “Then I’m your slut,” she shoots back, leaning in to kiss the underside of your cock, slow and sloppy, leaving a trail of spit that drips down to her chest. “Yours to fuck however you want.” She’s baiting you, and she knows it—knows how her words twist you up, how they make you want to give in and let her have it all. But she’s pushing too far, talking too much, and you’re not about to let her take control of this. You need her quiet, need to shut that pretty mouth up before she worms her way deeper into your head. So you grab a fistful of her hair—those silky waves bunching up in your hand—and yank her forward, hard. “Enough talking,” you growl, and then you’re shoving your cock back into her mouth, past those glossy lips, all the way until you feel her throat clench around you.

She gags a little at first, eyes watering, but she doesn’t pull back—fuck no, she leans into it, like she’s been waiting for you to snap. You start thrusting, rough and fast, holding her head steady so she’s got no choice but to take it. Her hands fly up to your thighs, nails digging in, and the sounds she’s making—wet, choked little moans vibrating around you—are pure sin. You’re moaning too, can’t help it, because her mouth’s a fucking dream—hot and tight, that tongue still trying to swirl around you even as you’re pounding into her. “Yeah, that’s it,” you mutter, voice ragged, “take it like you love it.” And she does—she’s a mess now, mascara streaking down her cheeks, lips swollen and red, spit slicking her chin, and it’s so goddamn satisfying to see her like this. That perfect, pampered face—always so untouchable at college, always too good for the likes of you—getting ruined, all because she can’t get enough of your cock.

Her bra’s slipping, one strap falling off her shoulder, and her tits are bouncing just enough to drive you crazy as you keep up the pace. She’s trying to say something, muffled words garbled around you, but you don’t let up—don’t want to hear it, don’t need her sweet-talking her way out of this. “Fuck your face feels good,” you groan, tightening your grip in her hair, and she whimpers, eyes fluttering shut like she’s lost in it. You can feel the heat building, that tight coil in your gut winding up fast, but you’re not ready to blow yet—not until you’ve pushed her as far as she can go. She’s drooling now, a steady stream of spit spilling down onto the floor, and the sight of her like that—kneeling, wrecked, totally at your mercy—has your head spinning. “Look at you,” you pant, slowing just enough to let her catch a ragged breath, “fucking gorgeous and filthy all at once. Bet your fancy friends wouldn’t believe it, huh?” She tries to nod, or maybe it’s a gag, but you’re already moving again, slamming back into her throat, the rhythm of your hips relentless as you fuck Yuna’s face, no holding back, no mercy—just raw, animal need driving every thrust.

Her mouth’s a perfect mess around you, wet and tight, and she’s choking on your cock, little gags and sputters escaping every time you push in deep. Those big, dark eyes lock onto yours, watering like crazy, tears pooling at the corners and streaking down her cheeks, but she’s not backing off—she’s taking it, every brutal inch, like she’s daring you to keep going. Her mascara’s a disaster, black smudges framing her gaze, and her lips are swollen, stretched wide around you, spit dripping down her chin in sloppy strings. “Fuck, you’re such a slut,” you grunt, voice rough and low, and it just spills out—you can’t stop it, not when she’s looking up at you like that, wrecked and willing. She moans around you, a muffled little hum that vibrates through your cock, and it’s like she’s agreeing, reveling in the name.

Your hand tightens in her hair, fingers twisting into those dark waves, and you pull hard, angling her just right so you can slam even deeper. Her throat’s convulsing around you, squeezing every time you hit the back, and the sound—wet, messy, obscene—fills the room, mixing with your own ragged breathing. “Yeah, choke on it,” you mutter, half to yourself, half to her, and she does, her eyes fluttering shut for a second as she gags hard, but then they snap back open, fixed on you again, like she’s begging you to see her take it. You’re moaning louder now, can’t help it—low, guttural sounds ripping out of you because her mouth’s so fucking perfect, so hot and sloppy, and the sight of her like this—kneeling, ruined, all that campus-princess polish stripped away—is pushing you right to the edge. “Love this, don’t you?” you pant, thrusting harder, feeling the pleasure coil tight in your gut. “Love me fucking your pretty little face.” She can’t answer, not with you buried in her throat, but her hands grip your thighs, nails biting into your skin, and that’s enough.

You go deeper, as deep as you can, your cock lodged so far down her throat you’re sure she can barely breathe. Her whole body jerks with each thrust, tits bouncing in that flimsy bra, heels digging into the floor like she’s bracing herself. You’re close—fuck, you’re so close—and you can feel it building, that hot, electric rush surging up your spine. “Gonna cum,” you groan, voice breaking, and she makes this desperate little noise, eyes pleading even as they water more. You thrust once, twice, then hold her there—head yanked back by her hair, your cock shoved all the way in—and you let go. You cum hard, pulsing deep in her throat, thick and hot, and she’s choking, coughing around you, but she doesn’t pull away. She swallows it all, every drop, like the good little slut she said she’d be, her throat working against you as you empty yourself into her. It’s intense, almost too much, and your legs are shaking as you ride it out, keeping her there, softening in her mouth while she struggles to keep up.

Without even thinking, your hand loosens in her hair, and you start stroking it—gentle, absentminded, like some weird reflex kicking in while you’re still coming down. She’s trembling, chest heaving, and you finally pull out, slow and deliberate, your cock slipping free with a wet pop. Yuna gasps, gulping air like she’s been underwater, panting hard as she slumps back on her heels. Her face is a total fucking wreck—mascara streaked down to her jaw, lipstick smeared, spit and cum glistening on her chin—and it’s gorgeous in the most fucked-up way. You grab a handful of tissues from the coffee table, crouching down in front of her, and start wiping her face, soft and careful, tracing over the mess you made. “You okay?” you ask, quieter now, a little worried you went too far. She looks up at you, still catching her breath, and then she smiles—weak at first, then breaking into this raspy little laugh. “I’m fine,” she says, voice hoarse, “just… gimme a sec to breathe, yeah?”

You nod, standing up and dropping onto the couch, your own chest still heaving as you try to recover. She crawls over after a minute, still in that bra and thong, heels clicking faintly as she moves, and plops down next to you, snuggling in close. Her skin’s warm against yours, her head tucking into your shoulder, and it’s weird—soft and intimate after all that roughness. “Can I crash here tonight?” she asks, voice small, almost shy. You hesitate, rubbing a hand over your face. “I dunno, Yuna. Not sure that’s smart.” She shifts, propping herself up to look at you, her hair falling messy over one eye. “Come on, it’s the last time, right? One night won’t kill us. Be nice to just… chill, y’know? After all this.” She’s got a point, and you’re too wiped to argue hard. You sigh, slumping back into the cushions. “Fine, yeah, okay. Just tonight.” She grins, snuggling back in, her body curling against yours like she’s already settled, and you’re left staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about everything that's happening right now.

Her body shifts, warm and soft against yours, and before you can fully register it, her lips are on you—slow, lazy kisses trailing across your chest, her breath hot against your skin. Her hand slides down your stomach, fingers brushing over your softening cock, and she gives it a gentle squeeze, coaxing it back to life. “Gonna miss this so fucking much,” she murmurs, her voice low and husky, lips hovering near your collarbone as she strokes you slow and steady. You feel that familiar twitch, the heat creeping back in, and you can’t help but let out a quiet, “Yeah, me too,” your voice rougher than you mean it to be. It’s true—she’s got you hooked, and even if this is supposed to be the end, the thought of not having her like this again stings more than you’d admit.

She pauses, her hand still wrapped around you, and looks up, those dark eyes narrowing just a bit. “This isn’t about Yeji, is it?” she asks, and there’s an edge to her tone—like she’s fishing for something, testing you. You shake your head, meeting her gaze dead-on. “Nah, Yuna. It’s just you. All this shit—it’s about you, not her.” She doesn’t say anything for a second, and you can’t tell if she’s pissed or pleased—maybe both. Her lips part like she’s about to snap back, but instead, she crashes her mouth into yours, hard and needy, kissing you like she’s trying to prove a point. It’s all teeth and tongue, messy and desperate, and your hands are on her before you can think, fumbling with the clasp of her bra. It’s one of those flimsy lace things, and you get it undone in a snap, letting it fall to the floor as her tits spill free—small, perfect, begging to be touched. She’s stroking you faster now, and your cock’s fully hard again, pulsing in her grip, ready for round two.

You pull back from the kiss, both of you breathing heavy, and she’s got this wild little smirk, like she knows she’s got you right where she wants you. “Fuck the couch,” you mutter, grabbing her by the hips and hauling her up with you. She lets out a surprised little yelp, but it turns into a laugh as you spin her around, pushing her toward the wall by the kitchen. Her hands brace against it, palms flat, and she arches her back, sticking her ass out like an invitation. You’re right behind her, pressing up against her, your cock nudging her thong to the side—no time to take it off, no patience for it. “Goddamn, you’re unreal,” you say, voice low in her ear as you line yourself up, feeling how wet she is already, slick and hot against you. She shivers, tossing a look over her shoulder. “Just fuck me already,” she says, half-pleading, half-demanding, and you don’t need to be told twice.

You slide in, slow at first, just the tip, teasing her until she’s pushing back against you, desperate for more. Then you thrust hard, burying yourself deep, and she gasps—loud, sharp, echoing off the walls. “Fuck, yes,” she moans, her voice breaking as you start moving, pounding into her from behind. Her hips rock back to meet you, matching your rhythm, and the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, raw and filthy. You’ve got one hand on her waist, the other gripping her shoulder, pulling her into every thrust, and she’s taking it all, her body trembling but holding steady. “Miss this too much,” she pants, her words choppy between gasps, “your cock—fuck, it’s so good.” You smirk, leaning in to nip at her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. “Told you I’d miss it,” you say, driving deeper, feeling her tighten around you, hot and perfect. “But this is it, Yuna—last fucking time.”

She doesn’t answer, just moans louder, her nails scraping the wall as you fuck her harder, the pace brutal now, chasing that edge again. Her thong’s bunched to the side, cutting into her skin, and those heels make her legs look endless, trembling every time you slam into her. You reach around, sliding a hand down her stomach, fingers brushing her clit, and she jolts like you’ve shocked her, a high-pitched whine spilling out. “Shit, right there,” she gasps, head tipping back against your shoulder, and you keep it up, rubbing tight circles while you pound her, her whole body shaking. “You’re such a dick,” she mutters, but it’s breathy, almost a laugh, like she’s loving every second of this. “Yeah, but you love it,” you shoot back, voice strained, feeling the pressure build again, your cock throbbing inside her.

You’re deep in it now, hips slamming into Yuna’s tight little pussy with a rhythm that’s borderline feral, every thrust rocking her against the wall like you’re trying to leave a permanent mark. She’s so fucking wet—dripping, slick, the sound of it loud and obscene every time you drive in, her thong still shoved to the side and soaked through. You can feel her squeezing around you, hot and greedy, pulling you in like she can’t get enough, and it’s got your head spinning, every nerve lit up. She’s moaning your name now, over and over, her voice all high and desperate—“Fuck, yes, harder, please”—and it’s like gasoline on the fire, making you want to wreck her even more. Her heels scrape the floor as she tries to brace herself, legs trembling, but you’re not giving her an inch to recover. This is too good, too raw, and you’re not stopping until she’s completely undone.

You shift your grip, grabbing both her arms and yanking them back, pinning them behind her with one hand. It’s rough, controlling, and she fucking loves it—you can tell by the way her back arches even more, her ass pushing out to meet you, giving you full access to pound her harder. “Oh my god, yes,” she gasps, her head tipping back, hair sticking to her sweaty neck, and you’ve got her totally at your mercy now, her body bending to your will. Her tits bounce free with every slam, small and perky, and the sight of her like this—helpless, pinned, taking it like a champ—sends a jolt straight through you. “You like that, huh?” you growl, leaning in close, your breath hot against her ear. “Me holding you down, fucking you senseless?” She nods, frantic, her breath hitching. “Fuck yeah, I love it—don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop.”

You tighten your hold on her arms, pulling her back harder so her spine curves just right, and you can hit that spot that makes her go wild. “Look at you,” you say, voice dripping with heat, “taking my cock like a good little slut—fucking perfect.” She whimpers at that, a shaky little sound that’s half pleasure, half surrender, and you can feel her pussy clench tighter, like she’s trying to milk you dry. The wall’s creaking under the pressure, her hands flexing where you’ve got them trapped, nails digging into her own palms. “Shit, you’re so deep,” she pants, her voice breaking, “ruining me—fucking ruining me.” And you grin, wicked and sharp, because that’s exactly what you want—to leave her a mess, to make sure she feels this long after you’re done.

Your free hand slides up her side, rough and possessive, gripping her waist, then her tit, squeezing hard enough to make her hiss. “This tight pussy’s all mine right now,” you mutter, slamming in again, watching her shake with it. “Nobody else gets you like this—nobody.” She moans louder, a slutty little “uh-huh” slipping out, and you can tell she’s losing it, her whole body trembling, thighs quivering like they might give out. You let go of her arms for a second—just long enough to grab her hips with both hands, spinning her around so her back’s flat against the wall, her legs instinctively wrapping around you. She’s panting, eyes half-lidded, lips parted and shiny with spit, and you dive back in, thrusting deep, her arms looping around your neck to hold on. “Fuck me up,” she whispers, right in your ear, hot and needy, “make me feel it tomorrow.”

You’re pounding her so hard the wall’s rattling, her heels digging into your back, urging you on, and she’s clawing at your shoulders now, nails leaving red streaks that sting just enough to keep you sharp. “You’re so fucking hot like this,” you say, voice rough and strained, “all desperate and slutty—can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” She shakes her head, frantic, her breath catching every time you bottom out. “No, fuck, I can’t—feels too good, gonna—shit, gonna lose it.” Her pussy’s gripping you like a vise, tight and wet and perfect, and you can feel the pressure building again, that hot, heavy pull in your gut. But you’re not there yet—not ready to let go—so you slow it down just a notch, grinding into her deep and deliberate, making her feel every inch. “Take it slow, baby,” you tease, smirking against her neck as you nip at her skin, “let me fuck you proper—gonna savor this tight little cunt while I’ve still got it.”

She’s whimpering now, clinging to you, her hips rolling to meet every thrust, and the way she’s pressed against you—sweaty, shaking, totally fucked out—is driving you wild. “You’re such an asshole,” she gasps, but there’s a grin in her voice, like she loves you for it. “Yeah, but you’re still begging for it,” you shoot back, picking up the pace again, slamming her into the wall so hard her breath stutters. “Fuck, Yuna, you’re killing me—gonna miss this pussy so bad.” And she just nods, too gone to argue, her moans turning into these broken little cries that hit you right in the chest, pushing you closer to the edge but still holding off, determined to drag this out as long as you can.

You’ve got Yuna pinned against the wall, her body trembling under you, legs hooked tight around your waist as you keep hammering into her. Her pussy’s so tight it’s unreal, gripping you like a vice, all hot and slick, and she’s losing it—moaning your name in these broken, needy little gasps that make your blood burn. You’re relentless, hips snapping hard, driving your cock deep with every thrust, and she’s taking it like she was made for it, her nails clawing at your back, leaving raw streaks that sting in the best way. “Fuck, you feel so good,” you growl against her ear, nipping at her lobe, and she shudders, her breath hitching as you hit that spot inside her that makes her whole body tense. “Yeah, right there,” she whines, voice all slutty and desperate, “don’t stop—please, don’t fucking stop.” Her submissiveness is killing you, the way she’s begging, totally at your mercy, and you’re loving every second of ruining her like this.

You shift your grip, one hand digging into her hip, the other sliding up to squeeze her tit, thumb flicking over her hard nipple. “Look at you,” you say, voice rough and thick with lust, “such a needy little slut—my big cock’s wrecking you, huh?” She nods, frantic, her eyes half-lidded and glossy, lips parted as she pants, “Yes, fuck, yes—wreck me, please.” You smirk, leaning in to kiss her hard, sloppy, tongues clashing as you pound her harder, the wall thudding with every slam. Her pussy’s dripping down your cock, soaking you, and the wet slap of your bodies colliding is loud enough to fill the whole damn apartment. She’s close—you can feel it in the way her walls flutter, the way her moans turn into these high-pitched whimpers, her thighs starting to shake around you. “Gonna cum for me?” you mutter, slowing just enough to grind into her deep, rolling your hips so she feels every inch. “Come on, baby, let that tight little pussy cum all over me.”

She’s practically sobbing now, clinging to you like she’ll fall apart if she lets go, and you speed up again, ruthless, fucking her through it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m—” she stammers, and then she’s there, her whole body locking up as she cums hard, a sharp, shuddering cry ripping out of her. Her pussy clamps down on you, pulsing tight and wet, and it’s like she’s trying to pull you over the edge with her, but you grit your teeth and hold back, not ready to finish yet. She’s shaking, gasping, her head dropping against your shoulder as she rides it out, and you keep going, slower now, letting her feel every thrust through the aftershocks. “Good girl,” you murmur, kissing her sweaty temple, “took it so fucking well.” She’s whimpering, oversensitive but still pushing back against you, needy even now, like she can’t help herself.

You pull out slow, her pussy clenching around nothing as you do, and she lets out this pitiful little whine, like she’s mad you’re leaving her empty. “Come on,” you say, voice low and commanding, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward your room. She stumbles after you, legs wobbly from the orgasm, her heels clicking unevenly on the floor. You kick the bedroom door open, the dim light from your bedside lamp casting shadows over the messy sheets, and turn to her, nodding at those strappy sandals still clinging to her feet. “Lose the heels,” you tell her, and she bends down—ass in the air, thong still askew—unstrapping them quick, kicking them off so they clatter against the wall. You're still fucking hard, cock throbbing just watching her, and when she straightens up, you point to the bed. “All fours, now.”

She doesn’t hesitate, climbing onto the mattress, sinking down on her hands and knees, ass up high like a fucking offering. Her back’s arched, thong stretched tight over her hips, and you step up behind her, running a hand over the curve of her ass before smacking it lightly, making her jump. “Goddamn, look at you,” you mutter, grabbing her hips and yanking her back a little, lining her up. “So fucking slutty—begging for more even after I made you cum.” She glances back over her shoulder, hair falling in her face, lips parted. “Please,” she says, voice shaky but dripping with want, “fuck me again—need your cock so bad.” You grin, dark and hungry, and tug her thong down just enough to bare her pussy, still glistening, swollen from before. “Yeah, you do,” you say, sliding your cock along her slit, teasing her until she’s squirming. “This big dick’s all you can think about, huh?”

You don’t wait for an answer—just thrust in, hard and deep, filling her up in one go. She cries out, loud and raw, her hands fisting the sheets as you start fucking her again, the bed creaking under you. “Fuck, you’re huge,” she moans, voice muffled as she buries her face in the pillow, but you grab her hair, pulling her head back just enough to hear her better. “Take it,” you growl, pounding her steady, watching her ass jiggle with every slam, “take this cock like the little slut you are.” She’s whining, pushing back against you, needy and wild, and you can feel her pussy still twitching from her last orgasm, sensitive as hell but greedy for more. “Ruin me,” she gasps, voice breaking, “fucking ruin me with it,” and you do—fucking her hard, deep, relentless, determined to leave her a shaking mess all over again.

Her pussy’s tight and dripping, swallowing your cock with every brutal thrust, and she’s rocking back into you, desperate, her elbows sinking into the mattress as she arches that perfect ass higher. The thong’s still tangled around her thighs, stretched and useless, and her skin’s glistening with sweat, glowing in the low light of your room. You’ve got her hips in a death grip, those wide, sexy curves filling your hands, and you’re pounding her so hard the sound of your skin slapping hers is echoing off the walls, filthy and loud.

Then she turns her head, just enough to catch your eye, lips parted and panting. “Spank me,” she says, voice cutting through the haze, all breathy and raw. “Fucking slap my ass—leave a mark so I’ll never forget this.” And fuck, that’s like a match to dry grass—exactly what you want, what you’ve been itching to do since you bent her over. You grin, dark and feral, and bring your hand down hard on her right cheek, a sharp crack ringing out over her scream. Her whole body jolts, ass jiggling from the impact, and she clenches around your cock so tight it’s almost painful. “Yes, fuck, like that!” she cries, voice breaking into this slutty little whimper, and you can tell she’s loving it, the sting, the heat, the way her skin’s already turning pink. You don’t stop—slap her again, harder this time, leaving a bright red handprint blooming on that perfect curve, and she’s screaming now, pleasure ripping out of her in waves.

“Goddamn, you’re such a freak,” you growl, smacking her left cheek now, matching the mark, and her hips buck back against you, chasing your cock even as she gasps from the pain. “Want me to brand you, huh? Make sure you feel this last fuck every time you sit down?” She moans, loud and shameless, nodding into the pillow. “Yes, please—fucking mark me, make it hurt, I don’t care.” You oblige, spanking her again and again, alternating sides, each hit stinging your palm as much as it’s lighting her up. Her ass is a masterpiece of red now, glowing hot under your hand, and you grab those wide hips tighter, fingers digging into her flesh as you keep railing her, the bed shaking like it might collapse. “Look at this ass,” you say, voice rough with lust, “so fucking sexy—gonna miss spanking it red, watching it bounce while I wreck you.”

She’s whimpering now, half-screaming into the sheets, her body trembling but still pushing back for more, like she can’t get enough of the mix—your cock stretching her out, the sharp sting of your hand, the way you’re owning her completely. “Harder,” she begs, voice muffled but dripping with need, “slap me harder—fuck me up, it’s the last time.” You growl low in your throat, bringing your hand down with a smack that’s so loud it’s almost deafening, and she shrieks, her pussy clamping down on you again, wet and pulsing. “Like that, you little slut?” you ask, spanking her once more for good measure, leaving her ass a fiery red mess of handprints. “Gonna remember this cock, this spanking—gonna feel me for days?” She’s nodding, frantic, her moans turning into these broken sobs of pleasure, and you can feel how close she is again, her walls fluttering, her body begging for release even as you keep punishing her.

You grab her hips with both hands now, holding her steady as you pound into her harder, the spanks still ringing in your ears, her ass so red it’s practically glowing. “Fuck, Yuna, you’re unreal,” you mutter, voice strained, feeling the sweat drip down your back as you fuck her senseless. “This tight pussy, this slutty ass—gonna miss ruining you like this.” She’s gasping, barely coherent, just a string of “yes, yes, fuck, yes” spilling out of her as she takes it, her wide hips swaying with every thrust, her skin marked up and claimed. You’re not letting up, determined to drag her over the edge again, to make this last fuck something she’ll never shake—your cock, your hands, the way you’re breaking her down into a trembling, needy mess.

Then you switch, flipping her onto her back on the bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and she doesn’t fight it—just lets you take control, her body pliant and trembling from how hard you’ve been working her. Her ass is still red-hot from the spanking, handprints stark against her skin, and that thong’s been stuck around her thighs long enough to be a damn nuisance. You grab it, yanking it down her legs in one rough tug, the fabric snapping against her sweat-slicked skin before you toss it somewhere behind you—don’t care where, just want it gone. She’s sprawled out beneath you now, slim and gorgeous, all tan lines and sharp curves, her chest heaving as she catches her breath. You climb on top, pressing your weight down on her, pinning her to the mattress, and her legs spread wide, instinctive, inviting you back in. You slide your cock into her again, slow at first, feeling that tight, wet heat swallow you whole, and she gasps, her hands flying to your shoulders like she needs something to hold onto.

“Fuck, I wanna see your face when you cum,” you tell her, voice low and gritty, locking eyes with her as you start thrusting again. Her pussy’s so slick it’s obscene, sucking you in with every move, and this new angle—it’s intense as hell, deeper, hitting her just right. She’s staring up at you, lips parted, eyes glassy with lust, and there’s something softer in there too, something that catches you off guard. You lean down, your chest pressing against hers, her tits crushed between you, and the pace picks up—still raw, still dirty, but it’s shifting, turning into this messy, passionate thing that’s got your head spinning. “Gonna watch you fall apart on my cock,” you mutter, lips brushing her jaw, and then you’re on her neck, sucking hard, leaving a mark—a dark, bruising hickey right where her pulse is hammering. She moans, loud and slutty, her fingers tangling in your hair, tugging at it like she’s trying to pull you closer.

“Babe—fuck, babe,” she gasps, the word slipping out all needy and raw, and it hits you like a punch, twisting something deep in your gut. She’s never called you that before—not like this—and it’s killing you, the way it sounds so desperate, so fucking real. Her legs wrap around your hips, pulling you in tighter, and you can’t help yourself—you’re kissing her neck again, leaving another hickey, then another, marking her up like she’s yours, even if it’s just for tonight. “You’re driving me insane,” you groan against her skin, voice breaking a little, and you pull back just enough to look at her—her face flushed, eyes wild, that perfect mouth open and begging. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Yuna—damn, you’ve got me losing it.” It’s too much, too honest, but you can’t stop it from spilling out, not when she’s looking at you like that, not when her pussy’s clenching around you, hot and tight and perfect.

She’s close—you can feel it, the way her breaths are coming faster, sharper, her body tensing under you, her nails digging into your scalp. “Fuck, I—I can’t,” she whimpers, her voice cracking, “you’re too good, babe, too fucking big—gonna cum again, I swear.” Her hips are rolling up to meet every thrust, needy and frantic, and you’re pounding her harder now, the bed creaking like it’s about to give out, your cock slamming into her so deep she’s shaking. “Do it,” you growl, nipping at her collarbone, leaving another mark, “cum for me, let me see that pretty face when you lose it.” She’s moaning your name now, over and over, her hands clutching at you like she’s scared to let go, and the way she’s giving herself up to you—raw, slutty, but somehow soft too—is making it impossible to keep your head straight.

You shift, propping yourself up on your forearms so you can watch her better, your thrusts slowing just a little—not enough to ease off, but enough to drag it out, make it linger. Her eyes flutter shut, then open again, locking onto yours, and there’s this spark there, this connection that’s more than just fucking. “You’re killing me,” she whispers, voice all shaky and sweet, and her hand slides from your hair to your cheek, trembling as she touches you. “Last time, huh? Then fuck me like you mean it.” You groan, leaning down to kiss her—hard, messy, tongues clashing—and it’s still dirty, still rough, but there’s this edge of something tender creeping in, making your chest tight. You pick up the pace again, slamming into her, her slim body rocking under you, and she’s so close—her pussy’s fluttering, her moans turning into these high, broken cries.

The room’s thick with it—the smell of sex, the sound of her moans mixing with your grunts, the slap of your hips against hers as you drive into that tight, pink pussy like it’s the last time you’ll ever feel it. Because it is. Her legs are locked around your waist, pulling you in, her nails raking down your back, leaving trails of fire that only make you thrust harder. She’s a mess beneath you—hair splayed out on the pillow, lips swollen and parted, hickeys blooming dark on her neck—and you’re just as gone, sweat dripping down your chest, your cock throbbing inside her with every move. You can feel it building, that hot, heavy pressure in your gut, and you know you’re close. “Fuck, Yuna,” you pant, voice rough and strained, “I’m gonna cum—gonna blow any second.”

Her eyes snap open, wide and wild, locking onto yours, and she tightens her grip on you, legs squeezing your hips like she’s scared you’ll pull away. “Cum inside me,” she says, voice low and desperate, cutting through the haze of your lust like a blade. You freeze for a split second, brain short-circuiting—did she just say that? “What?” you choke out, thrusts slowing but not stopping, and she nods, frantic, her hands clutching at your shoulders. “I’m on the pill, it’s fine—please, cum inside me, I need it.” You’ve never done that before—not with her, not ever. It’s always been her face, her mouth, those flat, tight abs, or that perfect ass. The thought of filling her up, pumping your load deep into that sweet, tight cunt—it’s like a switch flips, and suddenly you’re hornier than you’ve ever been, your cock twitching hard at the idea. “Fuck, you serious?” you ask, voice gravelly, and she nods again, biting her lip. “Please, babe—I need to feel your cum inside me, just once. Gotta know what it’s like.”

That’s it—you’re done for. “Alright,” you growl, leaning down to kiss her neck, sucking another hickey into her skin as you pick up the pace, slamming into her with everything you’ve got. “Gonna give it to you, Yuna—gonna fill that tight little pussy up.” She moans, loud and slutty, her whole body rocking with you, and it’s like she flips a switch of her own, turning into this needy, begging mess. “Yes, fuck, please—give me your cum, babe, make me your cumslut,” she whines, voice breaking as her legs tighten around you, pulling you deeper. “I wanna feel it—wanna feel you unload in me, need it so bad.” Her words are filthy, dripping with lust, and it’s driving you wild, the way she’s begging like some desperate little slut who can’t live without it. “You’re such a fucking cumslut,” you mutter, grinning darkly as you pound her harder, the bed shaking, her tits bouncing under you. “Begging for my load—gonna give you every drop, make you take it all.”

She’s panting, sweaty, her hands in your hair now, tugging at it as she stares up at you, eyes pleading. “Please, please, cum in me—make me yours, fill me up,” she chants, her voice all high and slutty, and you can feel her pussy clenching around you, hot and wet, pushing her closer to the edge again. You’re right there with her, the pressure in your balls building, your cock swelling inside her, and you know it’s gonna be big—huge, even. “Fuck, Yuna, I’m close,” you groan, thrusting deep, your hips slamming against hers so hard she’s sliding up the bed. “Gonna cum—let’s do it together, yeah?” She nods, frantic, her breath hitching. “Yes, yes—cum with me, babe, fill me while I cum on your cock, please!” Her begging’s got you teetering, and you can feel her tipping over too, her walls fluttering, her moans turning into these raw, broken cries.

Then it hits—you both lose it at the same time. “Fuck, here it comes,” you rasp, and you thrust one last time, deep and hard, burying yourself in her as you cum, hot and thick, unloading everything you’ve got. It’s a flood—your cock pulsing, pumping rope after rope of cum into her, filling her up just like she begged for. She’s cumming too, her pussy spasming around you, milking you dry as she screams, her head tipping back, eyes rolling up in pure, slutty bliss. “Oh my god—fuck, I feel it,” she gasps, voice shaking, “so much cum—shit, it’s so good.” You’re emptying your sack into her, a massive, sticky load, and she’s taking it all, her body shuddering under you, legs locked tight like she’s scared you’ll pull out too soon. You keep going, groaning as you pour it into her, and she’s beautiful like this—face wrecked, mouth open, those dark eyes rolling back as she savors every pulse.

You’re spent, chest heaving, but you can’t resist—leaning down, you kiss her cheek, soft and quick, then again, murmuring, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous—absolutely fucking beautiful.” She blinks up at you, dazed, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “You gave me so much,” she says, voice hoarse but warm, “so fucking much cum—I’m never gonna forget this, babe.” You pull out slow, reluctant, and she spreads her legs a little, reaching down with shaky fingers to part her pussy lips. Your cum leaks out, thick and white, dripping slow from her swollen, pink hole, and she sighs—this long, satisfied sound that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. “Look at that,” she whispers, almost to herself, “you filled me up good.” It’s obscene, the way it’s spilling out, pooling on the sheets, and you just stare, mesmerized, because it’s also the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen—her, marked by you, claimed in a way you never thought you’d get to have.

—

The shower’s running hot, steam curling up around you both as you stand under the spray, the water pounding against the tiles like it’s trying to drown out the heavy silence between you. Yuna’s in front of you, her back turned, all slim and delicate, her wet hair plastered down her spine like a dark ribbon. You’re soaping her up, hands sliding over her skin—smooth, slick, warm—rubbing the bar of soap across her shoulders, down the curve of her back, tracing the faint red marks from earlier that are starting to fade. It’s quiet, too quiet, and the weight of everything that just happened is sitting on your chest like a brick. The sex, the cum, the way she begged, the way you gave in—it’s all there, swirling in your head, mixing with the steam, making it hard to think straight. She’s not saying anything, just letting the water hit her face, and you’re not sure what to say either, so you just keep soaping, hands moving slow, almost mechanical.

Then she turns around, sudden and soft, and the water’s streaming down her face, soaking her lashes, dripping off her chin. “I don’t want this to end,” she says, voice low and shaky, cutting through the sound of the shower like a knife. You freeze, dropping the soap, letting it clatter to the floor, and your hands find her back, holding her there, feeling her heartbeat through the wet press of her, because it sounds like she’s crying—her words wobbling, her breath hitching—but the water’s blurring everything, and you can’t tell if it’s tears or just the spray. She steps closer, pressing her thin, naked body against yours, her arms wrapping around your waist, her head resting on your chest.

“I don’t want this to end,” she says. “I mean it—I can’t do this ‘last time’ bullshit. I need you, okay? I need us.”

You just stare at her, water streaming into your eyes, blinking it away because you’re caught off guard, heart hammering against your ribs. She’s crying now—you’re sure of it, her breath hitching, her lips quivering—and she steps closer, pressing her forehead to your chest, her wet hair sticking to your skin. “You’re so fucking great, you know that?” she mumbles, voice muffled against you. “You’re funny as hell—like, you make me laugh so hard I forget all the crap in my head. And you’re kind, not fake-nice like some assholes, but real, quiet kind. You listen when I talk, even when I’m just bitching about dumb stuff like my profs or whatever. And those late-night talks? After we fuck, when we’re just lying there, sweaty and stupid, talking about movies or what we’d do if the world ended? That’s my favorite thing. I didn’t even know I could like someone this much, and it scares the shit outta me, but I do. I like you—a lot. More than I ever meant to.”

She’s shaking a little, clinging to you, and you feel this knot in your throat because—fuck—you’re so gone for her it’s ridiculous. You pull her back gently, just enough to look at her—eyes red, lashes clumped with water, lips parted like she’s waiting for you to say something, anything. “Yuna,” you start, voice rough, scraping out of you like it’s been buried too long, “I don’t want this to end either. You think I can just walk away from you? From this? I’m fucking in love with you, alright? Like, stupid, head-over-heels, can’t-think-straight in love with you, and it’s been killing me pretending this is just some casual hookup thing.”

Her eyes widen, a little gasp slipping out, but you’re on a roll now, hands sliding to her face, cupping her cheeks as the water keeps falling, soaking you both. “You’re everything, you know that? You’re badass and smart—way smarter than me, don’t even try to deny it—and you’ve got this way of looking at me that makes me feel like I’m worth something. I love how you tease me, how you call me out on my shit, but then you’ll just curl up next to me like I’m your safe place or whatever. And those nights? When we’re just talking, laughing, fucking around until we’re too tired to move? That’s the best shit I’ve ever had. I love how you’re not afraid to be you—all messy and loud and real. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it’s freaking me out, but I don’t wanna lose it. I don’t wanna lose you.”

She’s staring up at you, water running down her face, and for a second, it’s like the world stops—just you and her, the shower drowning out everything else. Then she laughs, this shaky, relieved sound, and buries her face in your chest again, arms wrapping tight around you. “God, you’re such a sap,” she mutters, but it’s soft, affectionate, and you can feel her smiling against your skin. “I fucked up, okay? I was a bitch—pushing you away, acting like I didn’t care. I didn’t mean it. I was just… scared, I guess. Scared I’d fuck this up, scared you’d figure out I’m not as cool as I pretend to be. But I like you so much—too much. I love this, us, all of it. I don’t wanna stop.”

You tilt her chin up, thumb brushing over her wet lips, and she’s looking at you like you hung the damn moon. “So don’t,” you say, voice low but firm. “Don’t stop. I’m in this, Yuna—I want this, I want you. But you gotta stop running, alright? No more pretending I don’t exist out there.” She nods, quick and earnest, her hands sliding up your back. “I won’t—I swear. I’ll be better. I’ll brag about you to everyone, I don’t care. Just… give me another shot. Please.” You lean down, forehead pressing to hers, and it’s like all the tension just melts under the hot water. “Promise me,” you say, and she surges up, kissing you deep and slow, her lips soft and salty with what might be tears or just the shower. “I promise,” she whispers, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, “I’m yours, okay? For real.”

You slide your hand to her cheek, cupping it gentle, thumb stroking over her wet skin, and you feel this dumb, happy grin tugging at your lips. “I’m happy,” you say, simple and honest, and her face lights up—really lights up, like the sun breaking through clouds. “Me too,” she says, voice soft but sure, and then she perks up, that playful edge creeping back in. “Hey, can we still watch that horror movie? The one you’ve been hyping up?” You laugh, the tension melting away, and nod, stepping back to grab the shampoo off the ledge. “Hell yeah, we’re watching it. Gonna scare the shit outta you, and you’re gonna love it.” She grins, turning around so you can lather her hair, and as you work the shampoo in—fingers massaging her scalp, her leaning into your touch—you’re both giggling like idiots, the heaviness from before washing away with the suds. It’s not perfect, it’s not figured out, but it’s something—something real—something big—and something yours.

#yuna #shin yuna #Yuna smut #yuna x reader #shin yuna smut #kpop gg smut #kpop male reader #Kpop smut #itzy smut #yuna smut #kpop x male reader

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cruel-seduction · 4 months ago

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Theodore Nott Headcanons

Warning: This piece contains themes of possessiveness, obsessive behavior, and dark romance undertones. Theodore’s devotion might be overwhelming, intense, and not suited for everyone’s taste. Reader discretion is advised.

(+ Requests are open so if you wanna request something, go ahead)

mdni 18+

Theodore Nott

6’4 | He’s taller than Mattheo, and yes, he lords it over him (quietly, of course, because Theo is above petty behavior… unless it’s funny).

Lean, but don’t be fooled—this man is cut. He’s that deadly kind of fit where you don’t notice at first because he’s always wearing loose sweaters and looking like a poetry major. But the second the sleeves roll up? Oh. My. God. Veins for DAYS, hands strong enough to snap a wand in half (or your will to argue).

He doesn’t work out. Like, ever. He’s just naturally like this. Probably from lugging around all those dark magic books and the emotional weight of his trauma (we love a man with issues!).

(He could choke you with one hand while quoting Dante and your ghost would thank him. RESPECTFULLY!)

Has that sleepy, “don’t bother me, I’m too cool for this” kind of vibe. Until he’s pissed, and suddenly it’s quiet rage central. A single glare from him could silence an entire Great Hall—and probably has.

His abs? Unfair. They’re there, but in the casual, effortless way that makes you want to cry because why do they look that good without trying? If you’re lucky enough to see him shirtless (bless your soul), you’ll be rethinking your life decisions.

Quidditch player energy without ever actually playing. His thing? Sitting in the stands, sipping black coffee, and judging everyone while looking hot.

"YOU WANNA KNOW IF I’D FOLLOW THEODORE INTO A CURSED FOREST AT MIDNIGHT JUST BECAUSE HE SAID SO??? THE ANSWER IS YES. I’D GO, NO QUESTIONS ASKED."

You think he’s calm and controlled until you see him in a duel, and suddenly he’s throwing hexes like he’s possessed. It’s giving “do-not-poke-the-bear” energy, and it’s hot.

His smirk? Criminal. It’s the kind of smirk that makes you forget how to breathe for a second and then hate yourself because he definitely knows the effect it has on people.

“Mia cara,” he says, and you’re done for. No wand needed. He just obliterated your whole existence.

Theodore Nott | Personality

He’s quiet, but it’s that kind of quiet. The "I could verbally destroy you with a single sentence but choose not to because I have better things to do" kind of quiet.

(WE LOVE A MAN WITH RESTRAINED CHAOS!!! IT’S SO SEXY!!!)

His reputation is split down the middle. People either think he’s the chillest guy in Slytherin or they’re low-key terrified of him. There is no in-between. He doesn’t go out of his way to make people uncomfortable, but if you catch his bad side? RIP to you, my friend.

Very composed most of the time, but don’t mistake that for softness. Theo doesn’t raise his voice; he raises his eyebrow. And somehow, that’s worse.

"You really thought that was a good idea? Cute."

Stone-cold when it comes to confrontations. No yelling, no theatrics—just a quiet menace that makes you wish he’d scream at you instead because this is SO MUCH WORSE.

However, if it’s for his friends? Oh, baby, the gloves come off. Someone messes with Mattheo? He’s done. Someone insults you? They’re not showing up to class tomorrow. He’s terrifyingly efficient when it comes to protecting the people he loves.

Doesn’t talk a lot in fights, but his insults are cutting when they come out. And he does it with a smirk that makes you want to both slap him and kiss him.

"What’s the matter? Spellbook too heavy for you? Or is it just that your brain isn’t working?"

Unlike Mattheo, he doesn’t get in trouble for starting fights. Oh no, Theo’s the one who talks his way out of detention, leaving the professors wondering how they ended up apologizing to him.

Let’s be real, Theo has layers. He’s the kind of guy who looks calm and put together on the outside, but his mind? A mess. Overthinks everything, but you’ll never know it because he’s mastered the art of hiding his emotions. (He’s good at this, but it’s also probably why he sleeps like four hours a night.)

Moody, but in a subtle way. You’ll notice when he’s upset because he’ll get even quieter, or start tapping his fingers on the table. He’s not the type to vent about it—he’ll just say “it’s nothing” while his jaw clenches so hard you swear you hear it crack.

Theo loves order. He’s a perfectionist and gets mildly stressed when things don’t go according to plan. He doesn’t lose his temper, though—he just sighs dramatically and mutters something in Italian like "Per l’amor del cielo..."

(BILINGUAL KINGS ARE UNFAIR. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE CAN INSULT ME IN TWO LANGUAGES?)

A total academic weapon. Not because he tries super hard, but because he’s just naturally brilliant and does the bare minimum to get top marks. He can explain a spell you’ve been struggling with for days in five seconds flat, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Always looks like he’s in control, but put him in social situations? Total disaster. Theo’s not awkward, but he doesn’t do small talk. Half the time, he just nods politely and hopes whoever’s talking gets the hint.

Has the driest sense of humor. He’ll drop a sarcastic one-liner so deadpan you’re not even sure if he’s joking.

"I think your essay was… bold. Choosing to write it in such a confusing way must’ve been a creative choice."

Drinks coffee like it’s water. Black coffee, of course. None of that sugary stuff, though he secretly loves when you make him try your sweet drink.

Doesn’t like parties but goes because the group makes him. He’s the guy sitting on the couch, watching everyone else make fools of themselves while holding a drink he hasn’t touched. (He’s your ride home because you know he’s always sober enough to apparate responsibly.)

Theodore Nott | Boyfriend

Ah, Theodore Nott, the walking paradox of calculated charm and quiet vulnerability. Having him as your boyfriend is like playing chess against a master—except the stakes are your heart, and he already has you in checkmate before you even realize the game started.

Manipulation, Thy Name is Theo:Theodore isn’t one to beg for your love; oh no, he’s too smooth for that. Instead, he’ll make sure you think choosing him was your idea all along.

He’ll subtly nudge you into needing him.

He anticipates your desires before you even say them aloud:

"Thirsty? I grabbed your favorite drink. Tired? Don’t worry, I already finished that essay you were stressing about."

He’s not loud about his possessiveness, but it’s there. You don’t realize it at first, but suddenly, every other guy who tries to get too close to you is either giving you a wide berth or “just happened” to fail their next exam. Coincidence? With Theo, nothing is a coincidence.

(We love a man who’s low-key terrifying but only in a protective way!)

How He Realized He Was in Love:Theo didn’t believe in love. Love was messy, uncontrollable, and entirely too risky for someone who thrived on precision and control. But then you came along, and everything changed.

It was slow at first. He didn’t notice it happening until one day, you smiled at him across the library, and he felt his carefully constructed walls crack.

And then it hit him.

“Merlin, I’m in love with her.”

Of course, Theo didn’t panic outwardly. No, he spent the next week internally spiraling.

"What does this mean?"

"What if she doesn’t feel the same way?"

"How do I tell her without sounding like an idiot?"

Eventually, he decided that subtlety was overrated. One evening, while you were sitting in his dorm, flipping through one of his books, he just said it.

"I love you."

You froze, unsure if you heard him correctly. He didn’t look away, his intense gaze pinning you in place.

"You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know."

Affection, Theo Style:Theo isn’t flashy or over-the-top, but he’s deeply romantic in his own way.

Words of Praise: He’s a master of compliments that don’t feel like compliments until you think about them later.

"You’re too brilliant for this school, you know that?""How do you manage to look stunning even when you’re furious with me?""You’re the only person who’s ever managed to make me lose focus, mia cara."

Subtle Acts of Service: He’s always doing things for you without making a big deal out of it. Your favorite quill broke? There’s a new one on your desk the next day. You’re stressed about a test? He’ll quiz you until you feel confident (and then reward you with a kiss for every right answer).

The Praise Kink Is Real, Babe:Theo doesn’t just praise you to make you feel good. He needs you to know how much he adores you. Whether it’s your intelligence, your kindness, or just the way you look in his sweater, he’s always quick to remind you of your worth.

"You’re too good for me, you know that?" he murmurs against your ear, his hand resting on your hip. "But don’t think for a second I’ll ever let you go."

(Is it hot in here or is it just Theo?)

The Possessiveness Comes Out in Subtle Ways:

At parties, his hand is always resting somewhere on you—your lower back, your shoulder, your thigh. A quiet signal to everyone else: She’s mine.

If someone flirts with you, he doesn’t cause a scene. Instead, he’ll step in with that dangerously calm demeanor, his words laced with thinly veiled threats.

"I believe you’re in my seat." Translation: Touch her again, and you’ll regret it.

Theodore, the Unexpected Softie:For someone so composed, Theo is surprisingly soft when it’s just the two of you.

He loves curling up with you on the couch, one arm draped over your shoulders while he reads aloud from a book he thinks you’d enjoy.

Sleeps with one hand always touching you—your waist, your hand, your hair. It’s the only time he truly relaxes.

Occasionally whispers “I don’t deserve you” when he thinks you’re asleep.

Having Theo as a boyfriend is a rollercoaster of intensity and tenderness. He’s the type to protect you from the world while also making you feel like you’re the center of his universe. And honestly? We’d ride that roller coaster over and over again.

Theodore Nott | Obsessive Devotion

If Mattheo is chaos in bed, Theodore is calculated destruction. Theo doesn’t rush—no, he takes his time. He knows every move, every word, every touch is designed to drive you absolutely insane.

The Slow Burn King:Theo isn’t just about getting you off; he’s about making you beg. He’s not the type to drag you into the nearest broom closet and go at it like a madman. No, Theo prefers to let the tension build—catching your eye across the library with a smirk, his hand brushing yours during dinner, leaning in close to whisper something sinful in your ear when no one else is looking.

"You’re squirming, mia cara. Tell me, what’s on your mind?"

Possessive but Polished:He loves control—holding you still with a firm grip while his mouth works wonders between your thighs. Theo thrives on the sound of your moans and whimpers, each one a confirmation that you belong to him.

But don’t get it twisted: his possessiveness is refined. He’s not shouting it from the rooftops; instead, he’s branding it into your skin with every kiss, every bite, every low growl of, “Mine.”

(We love a man who can ruin our lives with just one look.)

Praise You Like a Goddess:Theo is the king of praise. He’s not subtle about how much he worships you, and he makes sure you know it.

"You’re so perfect, amore mio. I could stay like this forever, just watching you fall apart for me."

He’ll kiss every inch of your skin like it’s holy ground. He’ll tell you how beautiful you are when you’re flushed, trembling, and completely at his mercy.

And if you praise him back? Game over. Tell him he’s a good boy, and suddenly you’ve unlocked the most obedient, eager-to-please version of Theo. He’ll do anything to hear you say it again.

Control with a Dash of Chaos:Theo’s not loud, but his intensity is deafening. He thrives on being in control, but sometimes he loves to break his own rules. If you push him just enough—maybe tease him in public or drag him into a forbidden situation—he’ll snap in the most delicious way.

"You think you can play games with me? Let me show you how this ends, bella."

Experimentation, but Make It Sophisticated:Theo isn’t one to dive into wild kinks without purpose, but he’s creative when it comes to trying new things.

Silk ties? Check.

Blindfolds? Of course.

Whispering Latin endearments in your ear while he has you completely at his mercy? A standard Tuesday night.

And don’t get me started on the way he uses his fingers—this man could write symphonies with how skillfully he plays your body like an instrument.

Stamina for Days:Don’t let his cool demeanor fool you—Theo can and will go for hours. He has the patience to draw out every moment until you’re gasping and begging for release, and then he’ll do it all over again.

"Oh no, dolcezza. We’re not finished yet. Not until I’ve had my fill of you."

Switch Theo = UNLOCKED:Normally, Theo’s the one in control, but when you take charge? When you straddle his hips, grip his jaw, and order him to behave? He’s putty in your hands.

"Tell me what you want, bella. Anything—it’s yours."

And the best part? He loves it. Watching you take what you want from him, hearing you praise him as he falls apart under your touch—it’s enough to drive him to the brink every single time.

In Private, He’s All Yours:While Theo keeps his emotions tightly guarded in public, behind closed doors, he’s all in. He loves to hold you afterward, running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet nothings as you both come down from the high.

"You’re everything, you know that? My whole world."

Having Theodore Nott as a lover is like being the muse of a masterpiece—every touch, every word, every moment is designed to make you feel like the most desired person on the planet. And honestly? We’re not complaining

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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astrow1zar6 · 4 months ago

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Astro Observations~ 40

Scorpio moons take really long to talk about themselves and their past. Especially when getting to know someone they are romantically interested in (I notice this more with the men) it’ll be years until you really start to know them. This is why many can view them as toxic.. but once you wait out their little game they are loyal to you for life.

Taurus moons would rather pretend they are happy and content than ask for help. This is why they are viewed as emotional stable (but really they’re just repressing a lot:( it’s okay to be not okay♥️)

Aries Venus people get turned on from arguing (especially if paired with a Scorpio Mars)

Fire mercuries were yelled at a lot for talking too loud

Moon in Leo’s and be SO toxic when insecure. Cockiness to the extreme.

Every Leo sun I meet I see attract so many people to them. They really are such magnetic people their energy gives people life (like the sun). As dramatic as they are their confidence is so refreshing & admiring to be around. Their confidence gives others confidence as well.

Virgo suns Leo Venus women smell soooo good usually. Every time I walked someone to smelled like heaven they had this combo.

Aquarius sun tend to mold into their environment. Their personality can become easily influenced by those around them. This is why it’s important for them to surround themselves around positive influences. (Their friend group can usually change them for the better or worse)

Mars in Aquarius folks love things that are out of the ordinary whether it be clothes, sex, people, friends ect. Anything that confuses them or shocks them they usually become obsessed with.

Uranus in the 3rd house sounds like such a smart placement! I never met one person with this placement so I’m so interested on what these people think. (If you have this placement talk about it in the comments 🤗)

Mercury retrograde people are FUNNY omg. For a placement that has a hard time communicating they are absolutely hilarious. They say the most original jokes, shit that makes you think “how do you even come up with that🤣” they are able to see things people normally overlook which makes them so witty.

All Scorpio placements have such piercing dark eyes (sun, moon, rising esp). Even if you have light colored eyes they still appear dark in a way idk how to explain it.

Scorpio risings love people who can hold eye contact. It’s like their secret way of communicating. Insecure types however I see completely avoid it.. but most I notice really dig it. (Especially when it’s their crush 😏..)

Leo risings can exaggerate things about themselves to impress others. They are very dazzling and engaging but you can sense a fakeness in how they present themselves at times. (You guys don’t have to be something you’re not to impress others you guys are so cool regardless 🫶🏽) I’ve seen a lot of people with this placement be actually really awkward and nerdy but most cover it up with a glamorous mask.

Water mercuries can sense when people have bad intentions. They are usually the first ones to see when someone is fake while others might miss it. (Can catch a bad vibe from someone everyone likes then later find out they were horrible people all along).

Moon in Aries women are so HOT. The men are hot as well but very immature and annoying most of the time.

Aqua moons I feel like are the most unconventional and eccentric of all the Aquarius placements. They on a different wavelength then us all.

Gemini Risings in school were usually getting trouble for talking too much or disrupting the class lol.

Sorry I took to long to post I’ve been violently sick all week ♥️🫶🏽

#astro observations #astrologist #astrology #astro community #astro notes #astroblr

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nereidprinc3ss · 8 months ago

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just like heaven

in which flirty!reader finally confesses her feelings to a pining spencer reid after a night out. she's slightly buzzed. it's complicated.

fluff (some angst) warnings/tags: fem!reader, reader drinks alcohol, dirty jokes, so much flirting and banter, some arguing kinda, but spencer is such a gentleman, everyone gets flustered at least once, they really wanna kiss, happy ending a/n: gif :D I hope u like this! not bandages reader but like same vibes. like an AU for my AU

“Emily!”

You drawl the ee sound long, the same way you reach across the table and wiggle your fingers at her half-empty glass. Thin dark brows dart up beneath that glossy sweep of reddish-black hair.

“Oh, wow. That’s unsettling. What?”

It’s been at least an hour since you had a drink of your own, but enough alcohol is still flowing through your veins so as to render her offensive comment inoffensive. You love Emily. You love the Tequila Sunrise sweating onto the sticky table in front of her which she’s not going to finish.

“I think she wants your drink,” JJ assists, cheek balanced tipsily on a propped up fist.

“Uh…”

Emily’s doe-sweet eyes flash uncertainly behind you.

“I’m basically sober,” you insist, laying your head on your outstretched arm and letting your hair cascade as you bat your lashes, offering her your sweetest smile. “Please, Em?”

It does not go according to plan. She scoffs.

“Are you flirting with me right now?”

“... Would that work?”

“Oh my god, just… cool it with the fuck-me eyes,” she laughs. “You can have the drink.”

You sit up, turning just barely over your shoulder to address Spencer.

“See? Emily buys me drinks. Basically.”

She slides the drink toward you, with a subtle roll of her eyes that you choose to interpret as affectionate under the dim canned lighting. As you sit back, content and free drink in hand, her eyes slide to Reid in the seat next to you, brows arching.

“Are you sure you can handle her all on your own?”

“Handle me?” You frown deeply as Emily gathers her purse and slides out of the booth, followed shortly thereafter by JJ. “I don’t need handling.”

“Then why do you have a handler?” JJ teases.

You slump against the worn vinyl, stirring what is mostly orange juice.

“He most definitely is not my handler. He’s my science project.”

“I got it,” Spencer assures your friends, with his trademark flattened smile. You can’t help but watch him with a grin of your own, flipping the straw in the drink and nibbling on the end until it’s stained sparkly pink. Goodbyes are issued, and soon it’s just the two of you. Perhaps it’s a tipsy delusion, but you think he seems to relax slightly when you’re alone. His eyes are easy on you. “You know, you’re not actually decreasing the amount of germ transmission by using the other end of the straw.”

“Mm… pretty sure alcohol kills germs, Doctor.”

At that, you giggle.

Doctor.

Soon you’re covering your face and having a full-fledged laugh attack.

“What?” Spencer asks. From between your fingers you can see that he’s smiling guardedly, brows furrowed in a way that reminds you he’s often worried about being the butt of a joke and not knowing it. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” you assure him quickly, gathering yourself. “I just… can’t believe you’re a doctor.”

“Why not? What’s so unbelievable about that?”

“You’re so young.”

And handsome.

“I’m not that young. I’m older than you,” he defends. Only by a handful of years, but you know he’s defensive about his age after a lifetime of being told he looks young for—well, everything.

“You’re… 32?”

That’s not right—you know as soon as you say it.

“Thirty three.” He very politely captures a hand—your hand—that had at some point ended up a little too close to his eye. You’re not sure what you planned to do once it got there—you don’t recall moving it at all.

“Sorry.” You take your hand back, choosing to instead fiddle with a button on his coat ponderously. “33 is a good age.”

“Yeah?” Spencer laughs, angling his head as if to regard you from a new angle. It warms you all over. Burns in some places, like a shot of liquor down your throat. Makes you just as dizzy, too. “You have a lot of experience being thirty three?”

“No, I just…” your cheeks heat and you wrestle with a timid smile, averting your gaze and dropping your hand for fear his grin this close up might actually kill you. “I like 33 year old you.”

“So… you didn’t like me when I was thirty two?”

“Stop,” you beg, a self-effacing laugh into the cup of your palm. “I can’t banter. I’m not at peak performance.”

The truth of it hits you, and you sigh, folding your arms on the table and resting your cloudy head. Only then, from this new perspective, do you allow yourself to fully admire Spencer Reid. He is smiling at you, and your heart does skip a beat like you’ve got some school girl crush. These days he wears his hair falling over his face, messy on purpose, and always smells so nice. You wonder when he started caring about that stuff. You want to see what products are in his shower, and learn why he chose that cologne, or how he decides to pair his socks. He probably has some sort of algorithm.

“Spencer,” you begin, the serious quality of your voice diminished by the smush of your cheek against your arm. Still, he tries to respect your tone, zipping the smile and answering with a playfully twitching brow.

“Hm?”

You want to push the hair out of his face. Why is he looking down at you like that? Like he likes you?

“You’re a very good handler.”

His eyes narrow as he considers this, but the glimmer in them could still spark a forest fire. You’re probably grinning like an idiot.

“Oh, I couldn’t handle you. You know this.”

You hum thoughtfully.

“I bet you could. Wanna try?”

Spencer shakes his head, huffing a laugh through his nose. To his credit, your bold-face innuendos don’t always send him into a tailspin these days.

Just sometimes.

“You need a ride home, don’t you?”

You sit back up, stretching your arms out.

“You don’t have to. I could get a cab.”

“I know,” he assures you, still a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. Why. Is. He. Looking. At. You. Like. That?

“Will you let me drive?”

“I would. But, you know, my affairs aren’t in order.”

You roll your eyes as he gets out of the booth and offers you a hand.

“I’m not that drunk.”

Spencer just wiggles his fingers.

“If you can recite the alphabet in reverse you can drive my car.”

You roll your eyes again. Obviously he’s fucking with you, because 1. He’d never let you drive even the slightest bit inebriated, and 2. He knows you can’t say your ABC’s backward when you’re dead sober.

The truth is you’re more buzzed than anything. You could get up and walk fine without any assistance, but he’s offering you his hand, so you take it. After you’re standing, you wonder how many excuses could you possibly dream up to get it back in yours. Should you pretend to fall?

No. Not quite worth your self respect.

“You know…” you muse, reveling in the brief brush of him against your back as he holds open the door for you, “it’s a good thing you didn’t become, like… a medical doctor.”

Now walking side by side on the street, he glances over at you, a poorly veiled smile on his perfect face. Like a trap door brushed over with a few leaves. He wants you to see it.

“Why’s that?”

A breeze ruffles your hair. The brisk cold and the walk seem to be making things crisper already. You shrug, bunching your sleeves in your hands against the increasingly frigid night. The skirt and tights you’d chosen were perfect for a stuffy dive bar. Not so much for an early DC spring.

“Nobody wants a hot doctor.”

He looks down at the sidewalk, hands pocketed, but the curve of his lips doesn’t lessen.

“Hm. You’re drunker than I thought.”

“What? No! I’m—barely!” Again he laughs at you, and again you flush, looking down and counting the cracks in the pavement as you journey slowly under the bath of yellow street lights. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you called me hot.” He sounds almost delighted as he grins sheepishly around the final word.

You snort. You’ve said worse things, more graphic things within the past few hours alone—but you suppose they’ve all been more like dirty jokes than compliments.

“Yeah. You think you aren’t?”

Sandy locks fall side to side as he carefully measures a response. His cologne is warm—sort of smoky. It’s very nice. He doesn’t seem like he’d wear cologne. Have you already thought about his cologne tonight? Once was probably enough.

“I just think sober you wouldn’t have said that.”

“But don’t you prefer it when I’m aggressively flirting with you? I mean, I know I do it sober too, but it's not as good, right?”

A silent stretch begins and shortly ends, and you don’t mind it. Right now, everything is a winding path through the woods. You’re willing to follow any fork off the trail if it means spending more time with him.

“I guess I wasn’t aware that was what you were doing.”

“Oh, bullshit,” you laugh, and it echoes through the canyon of a nearby alley, “I’m not subtle, Reid.”

“I don’t know! You—for all I know that’s just how you are! I mean, what did Emily call them earlier, your—your fuck-me eyes?”

Like he does when he’s flustered, he gets shrill and stuttery. It’s nice to be reminded that he’s still a complete dork on the inside—and the outside, too, as pink stains his cheeks like watercolor. You smirk at him in your periphery, watching him against the darkened city backdrop.

“You noticed those, huh?”

“No,” he denies forcefully, but his brow is pinched like he doesn’t quite believe himself, “I mean, yes, I notice when you look at other people like that, but that’s not what I would call them—I wouldn’t call them anything, I’d just call them your eyes, you know? Not that you always look like you’re soliciting… the implication isn’t there, it’s just—I notice when you flirt with other people! With Emily, and Derek, like, not even half an hour ago. You’re lucky Hotch wasn’t there. You’d probably have given him a heart attack.”

“I’m more concerned with yours, to be honest.”

“My heart is fine,” he laughs. “Worry about my dignity.”

“Hm. I was going for both. Guess I’d better try harder.”

You don’t notice you’ve come to a stop until you’re face to face in front of his vintage Volvo. Spencer is standing closer than usual, hands perpetually stuck in that nice wool coat. He’s all windswept and pretty, smiling crookedly and eyes sparkly with humor. A strand of hair sticks to your lip gloss, and you brush it away, tucking it behind your ear and squinting up at him against the chilly breeze. The flush is either from the nip in the air or your brazen flirting.

“Or, you could go easy on me. I’m frail. Like a… sickly Victorian child.”

Again his brow knits and he smiles like he knows what he’s said is ridiculous. But his tone is gentler now. Softer. Invites you to fall in deeper and see what you might find.

“And ruin all my fun? Toughen up, Reid.”

For a long moment, you don’t get a response—only his eyes, soft and thoughtful on you, before you’re distracted by the sweet bow of his lips. If he notices you’re staring, it doesn’t seem to bother him.

But something evidently does, as when he next speaks, it’s troubled. Curiosity straining against a rope that says maybe it’s better if I don’t ask.

“Do… do you actually flirt with me? When you’re sober, I mean.”

He expects to be ridiculed. In his most vulnerable moments, he’s still bracing for rejection—turning his cheek slightly so he’s ready for the stinging blow. It opens a fissure in your chest. You frown, and speak gently.

“Yeah, Spence. More than anyone else. You really don’t notice?”

Sometimes his face is so expressive, in the pull of his brow and tightening of his eyes and the way he wets his lips. But he probably doesn’t know that. And he can’t seem to meet your eyes, instead choosing to study the leather of your heeled boots. Sounds of late-night traffic, of tires on wet asphalt buffer the pauses between sentences.

“I notice… when you talk to Derek and Emily and JJ and Penelope the exact same way you talk to me. I didn’t think…”

Another gap in conversation, filled with the chatter of some group pouring out of a bar somewhere. You realize he’ll need some gentle prompting to bridge it.

“You didn’t think what?”

When his eyes flash back up to meet yours, you have a feeling like he’s shutting the pipes off.

“It’s—uh—” he clears his throat— “it’s not important, we can—we’ll talk about it a different time. We should—”

“Wait.”

He’d been turning away but snaps right back to look at you as if on command, wearing a brand new face that tells you he’d like to wipe the past minute or so completely away.

“Yeah?”

“Spencer. I wanna know what you were going to say.”

“I told you. It’s nothing.”

“You didn’t tell me. You mumbled evasively and walked away. We were in the middle of something and I want to know what you were going to say. Please?”

“Well, you’re drunk,” he finally sighs, and it’s a bit sharp. Stinging.

“I am not drunk,” you defend, and it feels true, with a bitter cold lashing at your cheek and blood heightened from the walk. “You know I’m not too drunk to have a coherent conversation. Why are you being weird?”

“Because I asked you to drop it! We can’t have this conversation right now, all right? I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Your stomach flips, and your breath comes a little heavier. Spencer is clearly frustrated with you. Maybe being on the wrong end of this mild vexation, and so suddenly, should make you feel guilty, or some kind of bad—but all you feel is a sort of buzz in the tips of your fingers and the thrum of your heart, something deeper than excitement pooling in your veins at having inspired this sort of passion. It means he feels something. Something for you.

“I’m sorry,” he tries halfheartedly, unable or more likely unwilling to stay angry at you for very long, “you didn’t—”

“What conversation?”

It’s jarring how quickly this has spun on its head. The very air you’re breathing seems to have changed. The metropolitan soundscape is a rife undercurrent of tension and louder from all the words unsaid.

Finally he swallows.

“There’s no conversation. I’m—it was a poor choice of wording. I just meant we should get you home.”

Before he can make it to the driver’s side door, you’re calling out.

“You think I don’t like you. And I just flirt with you ‘cause I flirt with everyone.”

Spencer stops, and turns to face you once more, sighing and head dropped to one side like you’re doing something incredibly inconsiderate. He’s never looked at you like that before, but you don’t let it shake you.

“That’s what this is about, right?”

He says your name, but you don’t let him get further than that.

“No, I think there is a conversation here, and saying I’m not sober enough to have it isn’t fair and you should have said something before and I think you should just say it now.”

You’re pushing his buttons with a heavy hand, though your own voice shakes. He’s feeling it too—you’ve never been so short with each other. His voice is raised.

“What am I supposed to say?”

It boils over.

“That you like me!”

It rings.

Then it’s silent.

His face is mostly blank. A little sorrowful around his eyes.

It’s cold, jumping into the deep end like this.

“We can’t talk about this right now,” he finally says, glancing to the side as if to suggest a situation the size of the whole city.

“Spencer, I—”

“It’s impossible to have a meaningful discussion until your judgement isn’t impaired, otherwise it’s—”

“I am telling you that I flirt with you because I really like you.”

“I—”

It appears you’ve truly thrown him for a loop. For a moment his jaw works at nothing, a soliloquy of words go unspoken, and then he’s stuttering and fumbling for the right thing to say, looking everywhere but at you.

“I can’t—that’s—regardless of whether or not it’s even true—”

“It is true.”

“Could you—stop?” He pleads. “You can’t tell me that. I mean, the power imbalance when you’ve been drinking and I haven’t—it’s—I mean, it's coercive. Because I brought it up, I asked an inappropriate question—or at least started to ask it, and you—not that it was your fault, I’m the responsible party in this instance, but if tomorrow you realize you never wanted to tell me—so I have to take that with a grain of salt. I’m just—I have to pretend I didn’t hear that, alright? And you can’t say it again.”

He’s ridiculous. You shift your weight onto one foot casually.

“That’s not very nice. I just confessed to having a huge crush on you and you’re gonna leave me hanging?”

There is an undeniable sort of pleasure in the bright of his eyes, and you phrased it that way on purpose, just to see him preen and glow—also to see if you could make him trip all over himself some more. Right now, despite the liminal space your relationship may or may not be occupying, you’re teasing him like you always do. Like he’s a friend, because he is. Before anything else.

He tries to glower, barely.

“Were you listening to me at all?”

“It was hard with all the stammering. I thought you might pass out.”

“I might,” he grumbles, and the admission pleases you greatly. Your lips tug as you admire him for a moment—watch his defenses go down and his features ease into something more inviting.

God, maybe you really had been too hard on him. Maybe he really didn’t expect that you would like him back.

You’re struck with the need to reassure.

A dampened clack emits from your shoe where the heel hits the ground as you step down off the curb.

“You know… I do like you. A lot. I mean it. And I’m glad I told you, because... you like me too, right?”

He raises his brows, like don’t do anything stupid, as you approach unhurriedly. It’s good to see that you haven’t broken his spirit completely.

Less than a foot away, you stop. Close enough to be in his space. Too far for him to have the grounds to step back.

His eyes are careful on you, analytical as always, constantly predicting an infinite number of outcomes to any given scenario. That’s how he keeps his footing in the world. But he’s never very good at predicting you. And it helps that his razor sharp intellect is dulled, some, with affection. Attraction.

It shows in his eyes. He’ll let you push boundaries he knows he shouldn’t. More so if you keep speaking to him this softly. Almost whispering.

“Tell me you like me, Spencer.”

Because he hasn’t yet. All the heavy lifting has been done for him, and that just won’t do.

First, he opens his mouth, and you watch the internal debate, a million things he could say, spinning round in his eyes like pinwheels. Rules, and buts, and caveats.

In the end, he just clears his throat. Speaks in the same secretive tone. Low enough to be intimate.

“I like you.”

Such a simple thing has never made you feel so airy before in your life. You steal another glance at his lips.

“So it’s really not that complicated. We could probably just kiss.”

He tinges pink.

“We definitely can’t.”

“You also said we couldn’t talk about it, and yet…”

“Talking is different. As far as I’m concerned, nothing you say to me tonight is binding. Whatever just transpired happened completely off the record. We can… talk about it tomorrow, but right now, you and I are friends.”

You shrug.

“Friends can kiss.”

“No, they can’t,” he says definitively, though not without a healthy dose of sardonic self-awareness and a dark smile. His hand finds your waist, and it’s glancing, if anything a light push, but you’re delighted nonetheless. Almost as pleased as if he really had kissed you. “It’s cold. I’m ready to leave.”

You’ve pushed him enough for one night. And it is cold. So you shuffle around the car with quick steps to the passenger side door, hooking your fingers under the biting metal handle and waiting for him to unlock the vehicle.

You’re shivering as your thighs press against leather upholstery, only the thinnest layer of synthetic material protecting your legs. Spencer is already starting the car, but the engine is too cold to bother turning the heat on yet.

“I think it’s colder in here than outside. Look at my hand.” You hold it up for him, and it is discolored, waxy, as he mindlessly takes it between his own much warmer ones. “I thought alcohol was supposed to keep you warm. Didn’t that chef on the Titanic survive hours in the ocean because he was hammered?”

“That’s a myth. Not the chef—he did survive, but it was a complete anomaly. Alcohol causes vasodilation in the dermis layer of the skin, so you feel warmer, but it draws blood flow away from your internal organs and significantly raises your likelihood of developing hypothermia.”

Does he notice how he’s holding your hand? Carefully pressing his thumbs to the center of your palm and pushing up through your love and life lines, cupping the fingers, before sandwiching them between his own and generating friction the way a child furiously rolls a play-doh worm?

“I guess I’m really not that drunk, then.”

He’s not expecting it, and maybe he doesn’t know what to make of your exceptionally gentle tone at first. It was a mistake, you think, as he relinquishes his hold on your hand, and you curl it to retain the memory of his warmth. But then he tucks hair behind your ear, like he’s done once or twice before, and smiles in a way you don’t quite understand.

“I know.”

You won’t push him. You won’t ask for anything else, and you won’t demand an explanation. Spencer is special. It can all wait, because you have something good with him already. Something important. Something like holding hands.

It comes as a surprise when he leans across the console, and you lean in a trance to meet him, and another surprise when he gently redirects, pressing his lips to your cheek, close enough to match the corners of your mouths and nothing more.

You’d let him do it a hundred times over, but he draws back after a fraction of a lingering second, and finds your hand to stroke the back of it, forgotten in your lap.

“You said no kissing,” you murmur, as if in a dream. If you had the wherewithal to be embarrassed maybe you wouldn’t be ogling so much.

“Compromise.”

If anything, you should be the cheek-kisser. But there will be time to feel slighted about that later. Time to amend. For now, you look ahead robotically.

“Is there a rule against friendly hand-holding?”

“Probably,” he says.

But he lets you hold his hand in your lap the whole drive to your apartment, anyway.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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evilminji · 1 year ago

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You know how... world leaders can't just? SAY stuff? Because when they DO it's the Offical Stance(tm) of their Country?

That makes their Fuck Ups(tm) all the more serious. It's WHY they have press teams.

But!!!

WHAT IF?

They said something, PUBLICLY, on LIVE TELEVISION, that? Can not be taken back? Full on "masks off, behold the horrors you have payed for" moment?

Sure, they could SAY "that wasn't me" and "I was brainwashed" etc etc. But? If it's BIG enough? UGLY enough? TRUE??? People WILL find it. Dig and dig and dig like termites in the walls. Hunt like bloodhounds.

Riot in the streets.

Because? All it would TAKE? Is ONE half ghost, a few too many long nights trying to balance college classes and his internship, a bigotry filled call from back home, and staring down that empty fridge with just one box of moldering take out, because he's been too busy and stressed to remember to get GROCERIES AND-

Ah.

So this is what "so stressed you feel calm, I have run out of Fucks too give" feels like. Neat. *picks up phone* Hey, Sam? You still at that protest? Outside the presidential speech? Neat. Don't move.

One Phone Line Express later. SAM is telling him to breathe. Maybe... maybe calm down. Think about this. Others around her can see the same "spark of madness" glint in his almost zen like smile.

It Fiiiiine, Sam.

He's just here to Talk.

He disappears. Sam's freaking out. President stumbles but catches himself on the way to the mike. Up in the watch tower, various Magic users choke on their lunches, because a ghost just possessed the United States President.

ON LIVE TELEVISION.

He taps the Mike, smile, leans in real close like he's gonna Tell You Folks A Secret.... Aaaaand~

"The second you Die, you no longer have human rights. Doesn't matter how brief. Heart stops? You're sub-human scum! Non-sentient by American law. We here in the United Stares PROUDLY desecrate the bodies and graves of the dead. Tear apart the immortal souls of the innocent. And condemn you to oblivion crying, begging, and screaming for mercy! Why, obviously, is an act. Because souls don't have the RIGHT to feel fear or pain!

And YES. We do mean EVERYONE'S. Atlantian, Kryptonian, Martian. Canadian, Mexican, Russian, AND Chinese! I could keep going! Once you die? You belong to the United States to experiment on as we see fit! You're PROPERT now! So turn your nonrights having, nonsentient self in to the nearest GIW! For the good of AMERICA. Ectoplasmic Scum!"

*drops mic*

Jaws are on the floor. This was VETERANS DAY. Dead military Heros and smile for the cameras. A cake walk. Do a patriotism, rah rah. There.... there are DIPLOMATS in the crowd. Sure as SHIT, were more then a few foreign nationals WATCHING. Religious leaders looking on in fury, grief, and horror.

Reporters. Oh sweet Jesus the reporters.

The press secretary faints.

PANDEMONIUM. The president, still dazed and confused from being possessed, gets PUNCHED on live television be his VP, a deeply religious if moderately shady man. Take bribes? VP is cool with that. Bootstraps, peasants, and all that. But how DARE you fuck with the Souls of the dead. How DARE you!

Phones are blowing up, questions are being shouted, the JLA Dark FEEL like they should tell somebody about the ghost kid... but also this feels VERY "Call for help-y" so they might throw their weight around instead and pretend they know nothing. World leader are meaningfully staring at their Dear Beloved Dead Grandmother's photos as they send LIVID assistants to hound the American into answering the DAMN PHONE-!

And Danny?

Danny feels calmer now. He has stolen like....700 bucks from secret security's various wallets. He's going to buy himself BOUGIE groceries. Some...some NICE take out. Maybe a little cake. Yeah~ Cake for Danny~

If anyone needs him? No you don't. He needs to go do some shopping, eat, lie on the floor of his shower and just... vibe for a bit under the spray. In the dark maybe. Sleep for a week. Have his food. Yummy little treats.

Or he's gonna fuckin LOSE IT, man.

(Tucker is actively hacking his college schedule as they speak. He KNEW it. Called it! Too many classes! But does Mr "I can handle it" listen? Noooooooo! Now look what happened! Holy SHIT, Danny!)

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

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stealingpotatoes · 2 months ago

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POTES SEMI-LIVEBLOGS KOTOR!

ive been writing my thoughts in the notes app but due to popular demand (one person asked for it) i'm posting my liveblogging DO NOT SAY/TAG/COMMENT SPOILERS PLEASE i read tags

warning im a yapper, im 10 hours in and theres a lot already (separated into sessions):

SESSION 1

whos this clown i thought i would be playing as revan

ive been too spoiled by dragon age origins this character creator sucks ass

only human???? ): fr?? ill just imagine her different in my brain or some shit

my life is being mansplained to me. is this bad writing or do i have amnesiacs

hes meta now??? hes talking abt the screen controls?????

omg a jedi and an evil jediii

omg their asses suckedddd they both died immediately

i <3 bringing a sword to a gun fight

WHY R THERE SO MANY SITH WHERE IS TJE RULE OF TWO

i clicked a workbench and it said lightsaber so either i get a lightsaber or i get a jedi friend whose lightsaber i can steal if im careful

I assume u play as revan in kotor2 so im gonna buy that now so i can play it when im done playing w this clown

i got light side points im getting a good grade in game morality which is something both normal to want and possible to achieve

everyone keeps saying revan is dead but thats my friend revan from tumblr hes clearly alive. or they???

my characters ass is distractingly present onscreen

huge fan of the way everyone collapsed drunk what the FUCK was in that wine

ok these sith ppl might be the bad guys but their armour is DRIPPY AS FUCK

ideologically i dont agree w the sith but they kinda went off w the fits

googling how to become a sith without being evil cause they have Drip

SESSION 2

i paid £1.19 to see revan he better show up in this game at some point

all these sith n i still cant find one revan….. stop faking ur death rn come out n talk to me babygirl this isnt like u….

why can i be light/dark side if im not a jedi. give me a laser sword

maybe this jedi gyal will know where revan is faking his death. or give me a fuckin lightsaber PLEASEEE

was just thinking 'does this game have romance' and then carth called me beautiful. i dont think im gonna romance anyone until i get this amnesia sorted

why is carth questioning me so much abt the crash im pretty sure i have amnesia

why tf did the jedi lady have me transferred to this ship are we in lesbians with each other???

carth's not wrong it is suspicious but i lowkey have amnesia so i coulda done that i coulda not

a lot of clone wars voice actors in this. was lucasfilm so broke in the 2000s that they could only afford the same 3 VAs for every project

mission is 14??????? we need to get my girl back in school

SESH 3

tale as old as time i fucking suck at racing games

ok i didnt realise you had to mash click i won

REVAN!!! REVAN!!!!!!!!!

why am i dreaming abt revan tho. real as hell but ?????

lmao cringe revan getting blown up. i thought the jedi beat rev-meister in a fight but no. accident

"such visions are often a sign of force sensitivity" COOL YAY GIVE ME A LIGHTSABER

BASTILLE LOST HER FUCKING LIGHTSABER??

CARTH IS RIGHT THATS LIKE DAY ONE JEDI SHIT. ok i still love her even tho shes a bit of a bitch and also doesnt have a saber

if we find a lightsaber im taking it first tho

whys carth getting weird abt me being weird that he doesnt trust me. i just wanna be friends mate

SESH IV: A NEW HOPE

'i mean no disrespect, but perhaps one of the male slaves could serve you better' i went in here to start a slave revolution and instead got called a lesbo

LMAO THERES A SPICE LAB???? WALTER WHITE WHERE ARE YOU

thats insaneee they blew up BILLIONS of people to get to one jedi?????? these sith arent fucking around theyre scary

UM THIS IS CRAZY GRAPHICS THE LIGHTING IS CLEARER/DARKER WHEN I COVER THE SUN W THE SHIP EDGE?? 2003 IS THE YEAR OF THE FUTURE

someone just called me padawan i kinda assumed i was in my late 20s do i just have baby vibes

all the jedi in the movies are so chill but every kotor jedi i've met so far has been a bit of a bitch

YO THEY HAVE A YODA!!! its not THE yoda but

cool so these guys are just the regional managers at best. your asses are not the council

why can everyone smell my force juju so strong

THATS STRAIGHT UP YODA'S CLONE WARS VA

why does fake yoda not blink both eyes at the same time. im calling him master tortimer he reminds me of the animal crossing mayor

bastila there was no need for such a fancy bow

malak is like evil aang

revan is so much shorter than malak omg

are me and bastila sharing dreams. are we both obsessed w revan

poor mission ):

WHAT WAS MASTER TORTIMER ABT TO SAY????????? EVER SINCE WHEN??? DID WE KNOW EACH OTHER BEFORE MY AMNESIACS????? DID BASTILA TELL U SMTHN MORE WHEN I WASNT IN THE ROOM???

im intrigued i like this whole hidden jedi shtick its very compelling. so is whatever theyre hiding from me

kinda surprising no jedi found me before tho given my force juju is so strong

IM A LEGIT JEDI NOW??? SICK!!!

does revan rlly not have pronouns i thought that was a tumblr thing but they straight up are a nonbinary icon ive never heard a single pronoun used. revan's pronouns are revan/revan's

damn revan seems so cool in these stories (charismatic war hero that convinced their troops to join them as conqueror?? julius caesar) and yet all we've seen them do onscreen is get blown up and die by accident

A YEAR AGO? the way they were talking i assumed revan died like. a week before the game started

master uh i forgot his name he has martin scorcese vibes said revan was a paragon of the jedi so what im getting is that all jedi gifted kids turn evil

even if i didnt know revan as a tumblr darling id KNOW revan has to be alive somewhere they way everyone talks abt them is too cool for a character who exploded and died. i think. i hope. I PAID £1.19 TO MEET REVAN

'only you and bastila can stop malak' seriously????? just us two?? ive been a jedi for like, 6 minutes and you guys keep calling bastila young???? do you guys not wanna help??

omg im getting carth to traumadump! <3

HE WAS ON REVAN'S ARMY>??

i totally knew the jedi code and did not have to google it whatsoever

they rlly said fuck going to illum heres a crystal from the bin

he told me id be a great sentinel and i was like i know but i want blue cause i dont wanna be matchies with bastila

OGH!!! I HAVE A LIGHTSABER!!!! THIS IS GAME OF THE YEAR!!!!

omg i made my lightsaber perfectlyyy which is rare <3 getting a good grade in jedi

maybe i was a travelling lightsaber salesman before my amnesia

seriously though WHO was i everyone's kinda stopped acting like i have amnesia since the first mission BUT IVE PLAYED DRAGON AGE THAT GIVES YOU OPPORTUNITIES TO RP UR PAST. THIS DOESNT. EITHER THIS GAME IS BAD (but i love it so its not) OR I HAVE RETROGRADE AMNESIA

also everyone keeps being like "Oh ur force juju is so strong" AND NOBODY FOUND ME TIL NOW??? suspicious. did getting a really bad concussion activate the force in me

im too confused and amnesiac'd to think abt anything except the fact i have a glowing stick now

FSESH FIVE:

big fan of using aliens to avoid having to get VAs to read every line

oh so carth's boyfriend saul betrayed him and became leader of the sith fleet so he has trust issues

well he needs to calm down. i can't betray him cause i dont know what the fuck is happening

yooo i love the design differences on the mandalorians

oh my god this lady wanted to fuck her droid cause it was her husband's. and then it killed itself. wtf. game of the year tho

wtf they jebaited this juhani person into going dark side but then i talked her out of it. that seems a bit mean of them

i hope she can join my party she looks too unique to be a random npc

ive been thinking and I might be going crazy but there was a loading screen tip ages ago that said jedis could wipe ppl's mind and all i thought at the time was 'fuck the shitshow acolyte didnt make that up'. but what if one of them wiped MY memory and i used to be a jedi or smthn ????????

cause they keep being like ur weirdly good at this??? did bastila steal my memories??????????

I KNOW I HAVE AMNESIA!! EVEN IF EVERYONE DOESN'T BRING IT UP BC THEYRE PROBABLY TRYING TO SAVE MY FEELINGS

if i dont have amnesia and im just deeping the fact the opening had my life being mansplained then im gonna look real stupid

anyway time 2 go to the fuckshit ruins cave where r-dog and malak went to

"it must be referring to revan. the dark lord and malak--" revan's pronouns are revan/thedarklord

bastila said theres no mention of the Builders in the archives. does she just know every text off by heart

THIS DROID IS 20K YEARS OLD ???

omg i can equip 2 lightsabers at once. game of the year

OK I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID ABOUT THE AMNESIA BASTILA IS ASKING ME QUESTIONS ABOUT MY BACKGROUND THAT I CAN ANSWER. I REPEAT I DO NOT HAVE AMNESIA

ok i didnt get choices and i didnt really uh… say anything that i didnt already get told im still not ruling out amnesia

also booo i didnt get to find out how old i was

master tortimer rlly looks like the ultimate ketamine yoda

LMAO THERE WAS A DIALOGUE OPTION 2 CALL JUHANI A CATGIRL

omg kashyyk from jedi fallen order!!!

I CAN UPGRADE MY LIGHTSABER THIS IS JUST LIKE JFO

omg this ship is fun i wish everyone had personalised bunk spaces like hfw… a game which came out 19 years after this i should probably just take what we have

im gonna start w manaan cause im p sure thats what B-dog said n its the same language the droid was speakin

omg hyperspace from star wars

THE GUY THE BUILDING FELL ON???

am i having dreams abt revan bc bastila killed revan and im connected to her this is so roundabout

maybe i'd sleep better if my ponytail wasnt clipping into the pillow

[kiwi accent] six

carth needs a xanax every time i think we're friends he stops trusting me

also lmao he actually pointed out how wild it was that a day one padawan is being sent on this uber important mission and HES RIGHT IT IS WEIRD!! i thought it was main character logic but he's calling it out

i really really like the sense of unease that's setting in like at first i thought it was just cause im not used to 2003 games but no this is on purpose bc carth my friend carth keeps calling it out

THERE IS A CHILD ON MY SHIP ??????????????????

lmao the representative for menaan is roland wann. its like poetry it rhymes

there are no cameras in the sith hangar <3 rookie error i can commit crimes now

bastila's favourite hobby is getting shot and walking into my grenades

this isnt a combat system this is a missing system

I GOT ARRESTED???? IM JUST A GIRL

nvm i had a datapad that said the sith were evil so theyve let me go free and we're besties

why do i feel like ive just walked into an underwater horror mission

this suit waddles at the speed of a penguin on fentanyl

i tamed the beastie this is like how to train your dragon

MALAK FIRED ON REVAN?????? WERENT THEY BEST FRIENDS???????

but maybe revan escaped when bastila wasnt looking THEYRE FINE THEYRE OUT THERE SOMEWHERE. I BELIEVE

so hopefully when we run into revan they'll be like agh i changed my ways cause of the being shot thing and they'll be my bestie

great news i successfully communicated w the ship child and gave her back to dantooine. my girl has shockingly good linguisitics skills

bastila is so dour "oh watch out for the dark side" GIRL I AM. I NEED TO GET THE BEST GRADE IN GAME MORALITY

ok OFF TO KASHYYK i hope cal kestis is there… thru the force i guess… bc he wont be born for another 4000 years but its whatever

omg you'll never guess what. another vision. wow its one of the thangs. cool this is a tomorrow me problem

#how long to beat says it's abt 29 hours so this is roughly a third (??) of the game???#talk is cheap #kotor #swkotor #knights of the old republic

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girllblogging777 · 19 days ago

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INK AND INTENTIONS

tattoo artist! mattheo riddle x reader

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.5k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : you impulsively decide to get a tattoo to get over your cheating ex. the thing is, you didn’t expect the tattoo artist to be this handsome…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

the first thing you noticed about him was his hands.

it wasn’t on purpose. it just… happened. the way his fingers drummed against the counter while he flipped through the appointment book, the silver rings catching the dim light of the tattoo shop. his knuckles were inked, veins prominent, like they were meant to do things… dangerous things.

you swallowed.

"you here for a tattoo, sweetheart, or just to stare?"

your eyes snapped up to meet his, and fuck. his gaze was heavy. dark brown, a little amused, a little challenging, like he knew exactly what he was doing. like he’d caught you in a trap and was just waiting to see how you’d squirm.

you squared your shoulders, pushing your hands into the pockets of your jacket. "i want to get ‘angel’ tattooed. lower back."

tatted guy’s lips curled at the edges, something slow and knowing. "angel, huh?" he let the word roll off his tongue like he was tasting it. "interesting choice. you don't really give off the angel vibe, love."

you rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at the pet name. "i don’t think it’s your job to decide what vibe i give off."

he exhaled a quiet laugh through his nose, head tilting slightly, assessing you. "fair enough," he murmured, and then jerked his chin towards the back of the shop. "come on then. let’s get started."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you didn’t think it’d feel this intimate.

mattheo - that’s what you found out his name was - had told you to lay on your stomach, and now, with your shirt pushed up and the waistband of your jeans tugged slightly down, you were hyper-aware of everything. the cool air on your skin. the way your heart pounded against the leather chair. the fact that his hands.. merlin , his hands, were currently resting on your waist as he positioned you properly.

"you good?" his voice was lower now, quieter.

you hummed, pretending to be unaffected, even though you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin.

he chuckled, the sound rough and teasing. "yeah. you say you’re fine, but you’re stiff as hell. you need to relax for me, angel."

you inhaled sharply. “maybe if you stopped talking, i could relax."

that only seemed to amuse him more. he was enjoying this. the tension. the way you were fidgeting under his touch.

"feisty," he mused. "i like it."

before you could snap back, the buzzing of the tattoo gun filled the silence.

the first sting made you gasp. sharp, shocking. but the pain faded into something else. something warm. something grounding. the needle dragged against your skin in slow, precise strokes, and you could feel mattheo’s focus, the steady pressure of his palm against your hip as he worked.

you bit your lip, trying not to squirm.

"you’re doing good," he murmured after a few minutes.

your fingers clenched into fists at your sides. "don’t.”

"don’t what?"

"talk to me like that."

mattheo smirked, and even though you couldn’t see him, you knew.

"like what, angel?" his voice was dripping with amusement. “like I know exactly what you’re thinking right now?"

your pulse roared in your ears.

"you’re insufferable," you muttered, face burning.

"and you’re fucking adorable when you’re trying not to lose your mind."

you turned your head to glare at him, but the moment your eyes met, your breath hitched. He was already looking at you. like really looking at you, his dark eyes hooded, lips slightly parted.

it was unfair. the way he sat there, tattoo gun in one hand, the other resting so casually on your hip like it wasn’t driving you insane. like he wasn’t completely aware of what he was doing to you.

"you’re staring again," he murmured.

you forced yourself to scoff, even as heat pooled low in your stomach. "shut up."

mattheo just smirked.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

by the time he finished, your legs felt like jelly.

"all done," he said, wiping the tattoo gently before leaning back to admire his work. "you wanna take a look?"

you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and sat up, moving carefully toward the mirror. when you turned slightly, twisting to get a glimpse, your heart did a weird little flip.

it was… beautiful.

the word angel curved perfectly along the dip of your lower back, delicate and elegant, but still bold enough to make a statement.

mattheo came up behind you, standing close enough that you could feel his warmth against your back. his voice was quiet, just for you.

"looks good on you," he murmured.

you swallowed, pulse hammering. "thanks."

his gaze lingered on yours in the mirror, something unreadable in his expression.

then, slowly, his lips quirked into a smirk.

"hope your ex sees it and loses his fucking mind."

you shook your head, turning away, reaching for your bag. “how do you know?”

mattheo leaned against the counter, giving you a smirk that suggested he already knew.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “he cheated. with some girl he met at a club. and i… stayed. for a while. tried to convince myself I could forgive him.” you let out a short, humorless laugh. “spoiler alert: i couldn’t.”

his expression shifted, just slightly. something darker, something dangerous flickering behind his gaze.

“some people don’t deserve second chances,” he said, voice smooth, measured.

you huffed. “yeah, well. i figured that out eventually.”

mattheo studied you for a second longer, then, just as easily as he always did, he smirked again. “don’t worry about paying.”

your brows furrowed. “what?”

he shrugged. “consider it a gift.”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “absolutely not. you did the work, i’ll pay for it.”

mattheo leaned in, just slightly. “or,” he murmured, “you could let me buy you a drink instead.”

“i’m not looking for anything,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

his smirk didn’t falter. if anything, it deepened, something wicked glinting in his eyes. “who said anything about something? no strings, angel. just a drink.”

your breath caught.

you should say no. you should. all the recent events had left you feeling empty, betrayed, and like you’d never find anyone else again.

but the way he was looking at you, the way he had looked at you all night, like he already knew you’d say yes, made your stomach flip. and maybe for once, you didn’t want to overthink it.

your lips parted, heartbeat hammering in your throat. “fine,” you murmured.

mattheo grinned. “good girl.”

and merlin.

maybe this was a terrible idea.

or maybe it was exactly what you needed

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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urcoolgf · 16 days ago

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tattooed heart

pairing : bf!rafe x reader

content : fluff. makeout. suggestive content towards the end.

summary : rafe gets a new tattoo, and surprises you (peep the ariana inspired title)

"appointment, or walk-in?," the man behind the counter asked. he had tattoos all over– full sleeves on both arms, ink up to his neck, and a few facial piercings.

"appointment for rafe... rafe cameron," he replied, his nervousness peaking through his 'tough guy' front just a little.

"sure, man. right this way," the worker led rafe back into the room. a few people were currently getting tattooed, a few pierced. there was art all over the dark walls– different tattoo styles, and other artistc pieces. he guided rafe to a black, leather chair before sitting himself in the artist's stool adjacent to it.

"i'm zach, by the way. i'll obviously be your artist today. so, what are we thinkin' of doin' rafe?," his vibe was calm, which put rafe a little more at ease– though he would never admit he was anything but completely chill about this.

"yeah, i got a pic. i want you to put this... right here," rafe replied, pointing from the picture on his phone to the spot just over his heart.

"nice. sounds good, man. let me draw up a sketch, then we'll place it, yeah?," zach replied, immediately reaching for his ipad to begin a sketch.

once he had finished it, he turned his ipad around to face rafe, but leaned over it, so he could look at it while explaining the different aspects of it to rafe– what colors would go where, and how he was going to shadow it.

"that looks perfect, man," the blonde said only semi-excitedly– he was still rafe cameron after all– he had a reputation around here.

"alright! i'm gonna have you take off your shirt. i'll place it, and then you can go look in that mirror right over there," he pointed to the wall diagonal from the chair, "and let me know what you think," he continued, "any changes, and i mean any, you let me know, okay?,"

"got it," rafe said, stripping himself of his t-shirt, and laying back in the chair. zach placed the stencil over rafe's heart, leaving a blue ink on the right side of his chest. he stood up, walking over to the mirror as instructed, analyzing the position and style of the temporary ink on his chest before it was permanent. he walked back over to the chair, and sat himself back in it.

"it's awesome," rafe nodded his head as a smirk spread onto his face.

"cool, man. alright, go ahead and lay back. we're gonna get started," zach said, turning around in his chair to grab some new gloves and other materials that he placed on his tray.

the soft buzz from the tattoo gun rang through rafe's ears as he felt the first few strokes.

not as bad as he thought.

—

"zach, man, you did an awesome job. this looks amazing. thanks a bunch," rafe said, admiring the now permanent ink in the same mirror he looked into a couple hours prior.

"happy to hear it. my buddy ryan's gonna get you checked out up front," zach replied with a smile, beginning to clean his station.

"thanks, man. have a good one," the blonde said before heading to the front counter to pay, and obviously leave a generous tip. rafe would never show it, but he was so excited to go home and show his girlfriend.

—

"baby! i'm home," rafe shouted, loud enough for it to travel throughout tannyhill. he was already excited, but his smile grew when he saw you hurry down the stairs, ready to throw yourself into his arms before he stopped you.

"wait! wait," he laughed, holding you in place by the sides of your arms.

"what?," you had a kind of sad look on your face, thinking you did something since he didn't want you touching him, "something wrong?"

"no, baby. nothin's wrong. wanna show you somethin'," he said, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt. you stood in front of him with absolutely no idea of what was going on. once he pulled the shirt over his head your eyes shot open, and your jaw dropped. it was covered by clear plastic wrap, but it was plain as day what it was…

your eye. tattooed. over his heart.

the artwork was absolutely stunning, it looked so real. you reached out to graze your fingers over the plastic wrap– carefully. as if you could mess it up. as if it wasn't permanent.

"is that… that's my eye, rafe," you said without taking your eyes off the dark ink, shock still evident on your face.

"yeah, that's kinda the point, sweetheart," he laughed, bringing his hand up to cover yours, and press it into his heart.

"i– i don't even know what to say, rafe… you got a tattoo?!," that wasn't the prominent question, but you really didn't know what else to say. this was the sweetest, most unexpected thing he could have done.

"said my heart was yours forever, didn't i?," he asked with a smile, although the question was hypothetical because, of course he had said that, “now everyone knows.”

and he meant it.

“this is so sweet, rafe…,” you began, lowering your hand from his.

“but…?,” his brows furrowed, he felt the follow-up coming from a mile away.

“but… it’s also sexy as hell,” you said, eyes narrowing as you pulled him towards you. he wrapped his arms tightly around the small of your back as your lips collided. you could feel rafe holding back a smile against your lips, and it drove you mad. he moved his hands further down, playing with the plush of your ass a bit, before moving even lower. he bent down slightly to place his hands on the backside of your thighs– which was code for 'jump'.

with no hesitation, you jumped into his arms without breaking away from his lips, running your hands through his buzzed hair. rafe began up the stairs, still kissing you until you pulled away for a moment.

"you have no idea what that tattoo does to me… you're getting it tonight, rafe cameron," you whispered into his ear, your hot breath making his eyes roll back. you pulled back to look at his face.

"oh am i now?, he said quietly, eyebrows raising as if he didn't believe you.

he believed you. and boy was he looking forward to it.

#urcoolgf #rafe cameron #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader

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majestyeverlasting · 6 months ago

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𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Paring Joel Miller x Reader

Summary The tenderness and nerves of spending the night at Joel’s for the first time, and the sweet moments that follow in the morning light [1.2k]

A/N This is a snippet into the lives of Joel and reader from the moments in between. Reading that fic is not a necessity because you’ll get the vibes either way. But fun news—right after this fic is posted, they will be receiving their own masterlist where I will post more glimpses into their lives in Jackson!

When yellowed lamplight no longer fills Joel’s room, there’s a brief period of rustling as the two of you settle beneath striped linen sheets in the dark. His bed is small enough that you can feel each other’s proximity, but spacious enough that you don’t have to touch. But you want to. It was your first time spending the night, and enjoying his company in the hours prior had awakened a selfishness you’d never known.

Maybe it was because he gave to you so freely nowadays. His presence, his thoughts, those smiles he no longer fought so hard to hide. It was hardly your fault that all you wanted to do was take, and take, and take. His supply never seemed to dwindle when it came to you.

As a stillness settles, you extend a hand his way that no sooner meets the softness of his bare stomach. Caught off guard, Joel briefly sucks it in before relaxing again. He’d peeled off his shirt before climbing into bed, claiming to run hot during the night. Your touch is just light enough to tickle as your fingers drift upwards, catching the dusting of hair splayed across his chest.

Swallowing, Joel takes hold of your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss, his facial hair scratching gently against your skin.

“Sorry,” you murmur, worried it was his way of asking you to stop.

“You’re okay, sweetheart.” He sounds gruff. “Just trying not to lose my mind.” He huffs out an amused sound that’s a little breathless.

There’s a flutter in your chest as you laugh a little. “Just wanted to feel you.”

Joel guides your palm to rest over his heart. “You feel that?”

It beats steadily, elevated just so. You’re glad it’s too dark for him to see the smile that pulls across your face. He scoots closer, his own hand reaching down to grace the skin of your thigh just beneath the hem of your shorts. There’s always a sureness to his touch. Everything Joel does carries a sense of intentionality. From picking up the cool steel of a rifle to caressing the delicateness of your skin.

As his fingers continue their gentle passes, it’s more dizzying than you’d expected, and you understand what he meant about losing his mind. Leaning in, he presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose, then your forehead, letting his lips linger as if to leave their invisible mark. An overwhelming sense of comfort melts down your body as he pulls away, so thick and heavy that you exhale and let your eyes slip closed.

•••

The press of your lips is so soft that Joel almost doesn’t feel them. Almost thinks it’s something sweet he’s dreaming up, especially now that he doesn't have nightmares anymore. His eyes open in an eventual flutter, blinking slowly until it becomes clear that you’re really laying by his side. Your lips peppering pert kisses over his freckled shoulder. Being seen in the morning light makes you pull away as if you’d been caught doing something wrong. Joel just continues blinking at you with the softest look in his dark eyes. Like he’d let you get away with anything forever.

You study him, the way his cheek looks pressed into the pillow, how his hair looks fluffier and disheveled from a good night’s rest. Both his hands are tucked beneath his pillow as he lays on his stomach. The nervous air of excitement that clouded the room last night has lifted, leaving behind a quiet sense of ease. It’s in the steadiness of your breathing, the quiet acknowledgement of the other that doesn’t need the help of words.

When you shift, a golden ray of sunlight hits Joel’s eyes, making it clear that it’s later in the morning and that you hadn’t shut the curtains all the way. His eyes appear as more of a caramel brown as he squints with a small disgruntled sound. You settle back into your original position with an apologetic smile.

No matter how much he tried, Joel still couldn’t grasp the luck that brought you to him. It sprung up out of nowhere at a time he least expected. A time when he’d grown to accept the possibility that the rest of his life would largely revolve around Ellie and being whoever she needed him to be. He’d already let too many people slip from between his fingers to welcome another.

Back in Spring when they arrived in Jackson, and Tommy introduced you two at the Tipsy Bison, he was terrified because he’d never met someone as kind and intriguing as you. Not before the world fell and certainly not afterward. He convinced himself that if he never opened up or let you in, it would at least mean getting to experience you in bits and pieces. This was before he realized how torturous it was to keep restricting and denying himself.

When the sound of Ellie’s footsteps arises from downstairs, Joel stretches his legs with a groan. “Kid’s got us beat this morning,” he says. The two of you are usually the early risers.

“Mmmm,” you hum, more interested in the rasp of his low drawl. “And what else?” Joel chuckles as you comb a loving hand through his hair.

He gets a shy look about him, but indulges you. “Means we gotta get up,” he says. “Breakfast’s started at the pavilion by now.”

Scooting closer, you hook a leg over his. There’s something about the warmth of him, the musky scent of his skin that makes your eyes close all over again as you inhale. Joel just lays there and lets you. Breakfast could wait a little while longer.

Later, there’s a weight to your gaze as he stands at the sink brushing his teeth. You don’t mean for him to feel it, but he does, peeking back at you from over his broad shoulders. Freckles and moles alike are dotted across his back, but it’s the scars that evoke that deeper sense of wonder.

As he finishes up, there’s something so painfully intimate about watching the way he wipes his mouth with a towel and begins running his hands through his hair to fix it. Your window of opportunity comes as his arms are lifted, and he doesn’t complain as you hug him from behind.

“She lives,” he lightly teases, hands coming to rest over yours. In the mirror, he can hardly see you from around his strong frame.

“You left me cold and alone,” you accuse in a murmur against his skin. He shivers when you deliver a punishing nip along his spine and follow it up with a few lazy kisses.

“I know. That was real awful of me.”

You tuck your nose into his warmth, murmuring, “Unforgivable." Then you’re quiet for a moment, enjoying the feel of him. “Maybe a kiss could change my mind.”

Joel can’t help a fond chuckle as he turns around in your arms.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think.

From Here On Out Masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #slow burn #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #hbo tlou #pedro pascal

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jihyoruri · 9 days ago

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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 APPLE CIDER huh yunjin x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ “and even if we’re just friends, we could be more than that”

↳ YUNJIN & HER SOLOIST GF 🍓

۫ • when yunjin started training again there was this one artist that she listened to that just always seemed to get her through tough times.

۫ • yn was her name, a rookie and she just had this angst but soft vibe to her that anyone could listen to if they wanted to be peaceful or just scream their lungs out and that’s exactly the type of music yunjin needed during that time.

۫ • she found her so unique for some reason she was in the industry but she was like her own category. she was under a big company that didn’t produce the type of music she makes, she didn’t dance and she kind of just put out whatever she wanted.

۫ • she was also kinda cute.

۫ • yunjin carried her love for the artist through training, preparing for debut, listening to her an hour before lesserafim’s debut stage to calm her nerves to talking about yn during her first live alone a couple months after debut.

۫ • “my favourite artist?” yunjin read the comment aloud, swaying slightly to the sound of yn’s voice playing in the background. “hmm… I’ll give you a hint she’s playing right now.” she smiled as the chat sped up, comments flooding in. “I love yn so much. her music has gotten me through a lot, she’s so talented.” she tucked a strand of hair out of her face, eyes softening. “I still can’t believe she’s a couple years younger than me… she’s so talented. should I sing on of her songs?”

۫ • yunjin didn’t think much of it after the live, it wasn’t until deep in the night her phone started blowing with messages from her friends nearly giving her a heart attack.

۫ • “omg yn mentioned you on her live” “ouuuu guess who just mentioned you” “you’re gonna freak out.”

۫ • first of all how did she miss yn’s live? (yn never goes live so both yunjin and yn stans are on their knees begging her to go live everyday) and second of all HUH???

۫ • she immediately opens twitter and luckily it’s the first thing she sees.

۫ • OMG yn mentioned yunjin on her live today my sserayn crumbs.

۫ • “I don’t know, guys, attack me all you want, but milkis over banana milk any day,” yn said, spinning lazily in her chair. she slowed to a stop, eyes flicking to the chat. “did you see lesserafim’s yunjin’s live today? she mentioned you—yes! yeah, I did,” she nodded, lips curling into a small smile. “she’s a pretty cool girl. I’m really flattered that she’s a fan. I really liked lesserafim’s debut, so I guess me and her have something in common. when they get a fandom name, let me know.” she leaned forward slightly, about to move on before gasping. “oh! and her cover! it was so good, I love her voice—like, let’s make a song together at this point.”

۫ • yunjin nearly screamed so loud the whole dorm would’ve woken up.

۫ • yn knew who she was…yn wanted to make a song with her

۫ • yunjin stared at her phone, debating for a solid five minutes before opening yn’s instagram and hovering over the dm button.

۫ • after another minute of staring, she finally typed, "so… about that song?" and hit send before she could second guess herself.

۫ • she immediately threw her phone across the bed, heart pounding. she did not just do that.

۫ • except she did. and when her phone buzzed a few minutes later, she swore her soul left her body.

۫ • yn: oh? you actually wanna do it?🤭 ۫ • yunjin: um YES??? ۫ • yn: [a funny picture that only showed her forehead in a dark] . let’s make it happen.

۫ • and just like that, they started texting back and forth, going from talking about music to random late night conversations about their favorite snacks, childhood stories, and the most unhinged videos they cound find.

۫ • by the time they met up in the studio, it was like they’d known each other forever.

۫ • and at the end of the year, they actually released a song together, fans loved the sound of yunjin’s voice on a song that was more yn’s vibe and just the overall chemistry that yn and yunjin had.

۫ • and a behind the scenes vlogs had fans convinced there was something more going on.

۫ • yunjin was crushing. hard. but she kept it cool… until she didn’t.

۫ • one night, after another long texting session, she found herself typing, "so, are we gonna keep making music or do I get to take you on a date too?"

۫ • yn: that was really smooth dude. ۫ • yunjin:… is that you saying yes? ۫ • yn: maybe… depends on if it’s a sushi place if it is then yes

#lesserafim x reader #le sserafim x reader #yunjin le sserafim #huh yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #lesserafim headcanons #lesserafim #girl group imagines #girl group fluff

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 11 months ago

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Magnetic**

Okay I had so much fun writing this one! It's based off of THIS REQUEST where Harry cheats on his gf with Y/N and is basically pussy whipped.

Warnings: mostly remorseless infidelity, solo male masturbation, unprotected sex (p in v), oral (m and f receiving), fingering, daddy kink, slight degradation, pain, size, and cnc kink, non-con creampie, jealous partners, alcohol consumption. I think that's it...?

WC: 14.6k

You were minding your business, shamelessly standing stark naked in Harry’s laundry room, setting the wash for the sheets and pillowcases you two had soiled with your sweat, spit, and cum. You suddenly felt Harry’s presence behind you and moments later he was wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I told you that I’d take care of this later.” He mumbled before kissing your bare shoulder.

“It is later.” You smirked, “You said she’s coming home around 11, no?” You asked him and he nodded, “Well it’s already 10 and we still need to clean up from cooking dinner.” You reminded and he groaned.

“Right…”

“Told you we should’ve just ordered in. Could’ve kicked me out with the garbage.” You joked and he tutted in disapproval and squeezed around you a bit harder. You giggled a bit at his reaction, but it was true…you were the other woman and sometimes you coped with that with a little help from dark humor.

“I thought we agreed you’d stop with the self deprecating stuff.” He reminded you. “Only I can be a little mean t’you.” He smirked devilishly and you rolled your eyes, but nodded.

“I know, I know…sorry.” You giggled as he smooched your shoulder again.

“And you were right. We should’ve ordered in.” He added, “You’re basically always right though, angel.” He admitted and you smiled.

When you thought about how it was that Harry came into your life it felt so normal that the fact you were fucking almost felt strange. You were merely acquaintances and only because your uncle was none other than Rob Stringer. Well, you were related through marriage, but still. You and Harry both just happened to be in attendance at his birthday party one year and after loosening up with a few drinks you two were flirting up a storm in a secluded little nook. Harry was single then and you were finishing up your Master’s degree in Audio Engineering, you both loved music, so that gave you two plenty to talk about. At the end of the night you exchanged numbers and added each other on instagram, but you never really spoke again after that.

It was a couple years later, at one of his last shows of his world tour that your paths crossed again. You all had a little “party” at the hotel afterwards and you overheard one of his friends say that he was talking to someone and that she’d be coming for his final show along with more of his friends and family. So you sort of kept your distance because you couldn’t trust yourself with not flirting with him. But all throughout the night you’d make eye contact across the room or just narrowly miss each other as you rotated around the little cliques of people. His intense energy made you feel quite wired, so even when the final people trickled out of the rooftop patio area that had been reserved for the little cocktail party, you found yourself sitting at the pool on the far end of the rooftop, legs dangling in the perfectly cool water. Harry was heading back to his room when he spotted you across the way through the chaises and tables surrounding the pool.

He’d greeted you with a cool “Hey, stranger!”, when he entered the pool area. That greeting was something you thought you’d hate until it was coming from him. He was clearly on a good one, as were you, and you guys just talked for an hour until you both realized it was past 3am. The ride down in the elevator was charged with tension and a comfortable silence, both of you were just enjoying the intense vibe that was encompassing you for however long this ride lasted. When the elevator stopped and opened up on his floor you were prepared to say goodnight but he just extended his hand out towards you. It was an unspoken invitation. You recall asking him “Aren’t you dating someone?” And he just smirked and said “not technically” and well that was enough for you to let him guide you to his suite and the rest was history.

You’d always thought sexual chemistry was a myth until you and Harry fucked. You had the things that scratched his itch and vice versa. It truly was supposed to be a one time thing but then you saw each other again after a bit more time and did it again. Harry was consumed by guilt after the first time, he felt ill and disgusted with himself. But when you two saw each other again you slept together again. And then again. And now it had happened once more.

You weren’t hooking up regularly, so it wasn’t a full fledged affair, it was more of a sporadic thing. The point was that now he had a girlfriend of almost a year now and you really needed to not do this again. You wanted to say you felt guilty for it all the time, but in all truth the guilt had diminished, especially when you were together. That’s how good it was. However, that didn’t mean what you were doing wasn’t wrong.

“So when I tell you that this can’t happen again you know that I mean it, right?” You asked as you closed the lid and then turned towards him. His eyes met your own with a solemn look as he nodded.

“I know…this was a slip up.” He said, there was a little guilt in his eyes, you could see it pulling him away from the present and into his head.

It truly had been this time. He had gone to a football match with your uncle the day before and you just happened to be over at his for dinner with your aunt and mum when they came back. You’d gone your separate ways but he then texted you to see if you wanted to catch up and have dinner together the next day, well, today now. And you had agreed, but one thing led to another, like the time before and here you were.

“Isn’t that what you said last time?” You asked with a smirk.

“Hey, how was I supposed to know you worked out at that studio?”

“Instagram.” You said with a grin and he chuckled.

“Okay, I just…I just wanted to see you that time. I didn’t intend for it to turn into sex.”

“Liar.” You whispered smugly before tiptoeing and kissing his lips gently and he chuckled.

“I mean, I fantasized about it, but I didn’t intend to follow through with it.” He defended himself and you just giggled before your lips melted together. It was so easy to get lost when you kissed each other. Feeling his big, warm hands feeling out your curves and squeezing at your butt, it made you melt. And well, he was getting hard all over again and you giggled into your kiss.

“One more before you go?” He asked you and you shook your head.

“Why don’t you channel all this towards your girl instead when she gets home.” You suggested before pecking his lips quickly and pulling away from him.

Harry felt confused when you said things like this to him. He wondered if you said it to make him feel guilty or were just being sincere about him focusing on her instead of you. So he followed after you until he was back in his bedroom and you were pulling your clothes on.

“Are you upset?” He asked you and you turned towards him as you fastened your bra on.

“No, H. I didn’t mean that in a bad way, sorry.” You assured as he grabbed your shirt from the floor and handed it to you. “Thanks.” You hummed.

“Welcome.” He mumbled.

“I just meant like…” you sighed, “M-maybe if you’re not…satisfied with how your sex life is with her, then-”

“Let’s not, alright?” He cut you off sternly, his eyes wild with frustration.

You just rolled lips together and nodded, “You’re right. Sorry.” You apologized immediately as you looked away with a little bit of embarrassment. You could sense that the mood completely shifted between you two so you hurriedly got dressed in silence. Harry had just thrown on his sweats.

“Ready?” He asked as soon as you’d buttoned your jeans.

“I can show myself out, H. Just finish cleaning up.” You assured him.

“What’re a few minutes worth at this point?”

“At least a shower.” You responded and he smiled a bit.

“See. Always right.” He acknowledged as he took your hand and squeezed it a bit in his.

“I’m not answering next time, Harry. That’s a promise.” You said seriously. You needed to put your foot down. It was bad enough that you didn’t feel bad about it, so you really needed to stop. “So don’t even call, okay?” You requested and he nodded once before he let you go.

Harry stood there until he heard the front door open and close and he smiled to himself because he was already itching to call you again. He didn’t let himself feel too guilty about this because he knew that he was going to stop, when? Well, he certainly believed the second time was the last time, but now it had happened a couple more times and he wouldn’t mind not stopping. There was just something about the way you two fit together that made him want to keep going back. Even after the first time he’d had you, when you were both drunk and giggling and mucking about, the second he sunk inside of you his brain chemistry changed. He’d never moaned so much while fucking someone. And then when you rode him…

“Fuck…” he mumbled as his cock started growing hard so fast.

He slightly brought down his sweats and pulled his cock out as he sat on the bed. Harry’s eyes closed as he as he started to stroke his cock up and down at a steady pace, not wasting any time to tease or delay his orgasm in any way. His jaw tensed a bit as he clenched his teeth together and hissed in a breath as he rubbed at his frenulum the way you had done earlier with your tongue.

He absolutely loved your company, the chemistry was just there. He’d never been with someone who made themselves right at home so easily. And not in an imposing way, you did it in a way that reminded him of when a friend you haven’t seen in ages pops in for a long visit and they just slowly start to worm their way further in. You zapped him with an excitement that was reminiscent of the time when he fell in love for the first time. Where you’ve got these blinders on and that person can do absolutely no wrong in your eyes. You only see all of the wonderful things about them you glorify them to an extent. You were a living fantasy.

“Shit, need her so bad.” He mumbled as he stroked a bit faster. He visualized the way your breasts bounced in front of him as you rode his cock until he busted for you twice. And here he was again, about to come for you for the third time tonight. He loved the way you praised him when he was about to come for you and he recalled it now. He groaned as he basically heard your voice as if you were right there with him.

“That feels so good, doesn’t it, baby?”

“I’m going to make you come again, aren’t I?”

“Yes, Harry…Fuck yeah, daddy! Come for me.”

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut as his memories of your soft and sultry voice and tight, dripping little cunt milked the come out of him. He groaned as he felt it start to expand from his core and tickle down his legs and finally reach the tip of his cock. He let out the most lewd moan as he felt is start to erupt from his tip. His hips bucked up into his fist as his warm, milky sperm spurted out against his abs quite intensely a few times before it diminished and soon stopped. He gave himself a gentle squeeze before letting go and sighing in satisfaction. He was obsessed with you, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. About when he’d see you next. But you were right, it couldn’t happen again. He was getting in too deep and the longer he let this go on the more painful it would be for everyone involved if it ever came to light.

*************

You had a short cry in the car on your way home because you were so fucking into Harry but you couldn’t fuck with his life anymore. Never did you think you’d be someone’s side piece, it shocked you! But Harry just understood your mind and body in ways that no one but you knew and it was so amazing to feel so understood. To feel in tune with someone, whether it be in the middle of a sexual experience or just while making conversation. That’s why it had been so hard to stay away. But you meant it this time. You couldn’t continue being his escape of whatever it was that he was missing in his relationship.

You hadn’t meant to offend him when suggesting he have a conversation about the sexual things in his relationship with his girlfriend. You just wanted him to be able to get what he needed from his relationship, that was the point wasn’t it? You were certain things were just fine in his relationship but when it comes to sex, “just fine” is a mere step up from “not good”. And when you and Harry got together everything flowed so perfectly that he was willing to be unfaithful just to have a taste of that.

What you two did was fuck really well. There wasn’t really any tenderness in those moments, you two just relished in the ecstasy that came with the lust and pleasure when you two got together. You were into the same things, you could push the limits of what was acceptable with him. It was so rare to find such a good match, but you were determined to stay true to your word because at the end of the day, no matter how good the sex and company were, he had someone else.

After a couple of days you got the courage to block his number. It was a temporary measure in case either of you slipped up in the near future because if he did just the right amount of groveling you’d give in far more easily than you cared to admit.

….TWO MONTHS LATER….

You had been doing really well after distancing yourself from Harry. You weren’t sure how long you’d need before you could see him without your pussy getting all puffy and sticky at the mere sight of him and the sound of his voice. In order to achieve this you’d also stopped frequenting the places where you knew he liked to go, so you hadn’t even seen him this entire time. You were proud of yourself for being able to quit him cold turkey so when one of your friends invited you out to Amante’s, a private club for the rich and famous (precisely the kind of place Harry went to when he wanted to be out of the house but not being lurked by admirers), you quickly disregarded the reluctance that initially arose. The odds of you running into him were quite low and you just needed the night out, especially after the grueling work week you’d had.

You got a bit dressed up, something short of cocktail attire, and then just added some eyeliner to darken up your makeup before rushing out of your town home. You got into your Uber and made your way to the club. Amante’s wasn’t a club to dance, it was more of a social club. There was a main bar with a large sitting room, some billiard, and karaoke rooms, and then a lovely patio area where they had a stove oven to bake fresh pizza’s. That’s usually where your friends hung out, out back and away from the older crowd. You were heading back, tucking away your member’s card when you heard your name.

“Y/N!” You glanced up and smiled brightly when you saw your friend, Goldie.

“G! Look at you!” You giggled happily, completely blown away by her gorgeous outfit.

“Thank you, thank you!” She grinned, “You’re looking lovely as well.” She complimented and you tutted, waving off the compliment. “I was just on my way to freshen up a bit. I know you’ve just arrived, but do you want to join?” She asked and you agreed and were easily swept away.

You too took the time to touch up your lipliner and lipstick, you were being cautious as Goldie re-glued one of her strip lashes that seemed to be needing more adhesive. After helping her fan it dry to a tacky consistency she placed it back on. You gave yourself a few more spritzes of perfume before you both headed out.

“So it is a big group?” You asked as you two weaved through the sitting room, locking eyes with a handsome man before exchanging a timid smile and continuing on.

“About eight of us.”

“Eight?” You asked in surprise. Your main group only consisted of six people.

“Yeah, Sam brought Tom and Harry with him.” She informed you. Suddenly, you felt the world come to a screeching halt. Just your fucking luck!

“Oh!” You exclaimed.

“You know them both already, right?” Goldie asked you.

“Oh yeah, I’ve met them before.” You assured and she nodded. She was saying something more but you genuinely couldn’t hear anything as you started to get trapped in your own head.

As soon as you stepped out though your hearing tuned back in and picked out Harry’s boisterous laughter over everyone else’s and you immediately felt your heart skip a beat. Your skin started to tingle, goosebumps breaking out over your arms the closer you got, and those tingles started to seep down into your guts. The butterflies of excitement and nervous were fluttering with reckless abandon in anticipation. Then, finally one of the servers slipped past you and opened up your field of vision to Harry, or his rather chiseled side profile. His hair was longer than you’d last seen him and his facial hair had come in nicely; if you concentrated a bit more you could practically feel it scratching at the delicate skin between your thighs as he worked his way up to your pu-

“Look who’s here!” Goldie announced with glee as you two reached the end of the table and everyone glanced over to her and then to you.

Harry’s gaze immediately found your own and his eyes raked down your body subtly. You ignored the intense heat of his eyes taking you in longingly and just waved at everyone and did a general greeting before taking your seat on the chair at the end. You were taking everyone in for a moment before picking up the drinks menu to gather yourself until you heard your name.

“Y/N, do you want to sit in the booth? It’s far more comfortable.” Harry spoke to you and you glanced up at him from the menu.

“I’m alright here. Thanks.” You offered a polite smile before looking away.

You knew full well that you weren’t ordering anything off of this specialty menu, you’d just get your usual Whiskey and soda water with a squeeze of lemon. You just needed a distraction while you composed yourself enough to look at him without picturing him in his full naked glory. It was tough and when you spared him a glance when he wasn’t looking his lips still quirked up to the left, carving his dimple into his cheek. It made you smile, but after that you just steered clear. No one knew that you and Harry were more familiar with each other than the times you’d been to his shows or seen him at your uncle’s things on occasion, so giving him any more attention would make everyone think you were flirting with a taken man. And speaking of…where was she? It didn’t take long for someone to bring her up and ask how he’d been coping with her gone for work.

“I’m good. I’ve always been big on having my own things to keep me occupied.” He said, “Then on the other hand I’m all alone in that big, old house all the time.” he announced and you reached for your drink and took it.

“You don’t get lonely?” Someone asked him.

“Not usually, but lately just a bit.” He said and his gaze flickered over to you, “Wouldn’t mind having some company when things feel a bit slow.” He confessed.

And with that, you excused yourself to the bathroom and rushed over there. You felt so stupid for getting worked up over what he was saying, but you knew exactly what he meant. You could perfectly envision him letting you into his house and immediately dropping to his knees as he got your pants off and just licked you out right there against the doorway. As soon as you got in the stall you grabbed a few sheets of toilet paper and pulled your dress up a bit before slipping your hand down the front of your panties to soak up the arousal that had you all slicked up. Your clit was so sensitive that even when the wad of toilet paper skimmed over it as you retracted your hand, it made you bite down on your lip. For a moment you genuinely wished that Harry would burst through the door and lock it behind him so that he could take you then and there. It was a sinful thought and you were quite disappointed in yourself that all it took was being in his presence to have your resolve break down like this. Betrayed by your own body. Once you had washed your hands you beelined it for the bar and waited against the counter.

“What can I get for you, miss?”

“Just a shot of vodka.” You said, “Do you still carry the Kettle One grapefruit one?”

“We do.”

“That please. Chilled.”

“Right away.” The man smiled and you thanked him before he spun around to get what you wanted.

“Can I pick that up for you?” You heard from beside you and turned to see the handsome man that had made eyes at you when you first arrived.

“Oh no, that’s alright.”

“I insist. I was hoping to buy you a drink but seeing as you’re here with friends, I’m afraid this would be my only opportunity. I’m Eric.” He said extending his hand and you smiled.

“I’m Y/N. Lovely to meet you.”

“The pleasure is entirely mine. So what do you say? Can I at least get this for you?” He inquired once more and you nodded.

“Yeah, alright.” You agreed and he smiled, “Do you want one too? Some guy is paying.” You joked and he chuckled.

“Sure.”

“Alright. I can spare a bit of time.” You flirted and he called on the bartender and asked him for another.

Soon you had your shots before you and you were clinking the little shot glasses together before tossing them back. He scoffed afterwards and said it was awful and you did as well. You explained that the last time you had this specific vodka it may have been in a spritzer or shooter of sorts, not actually straight. So you guys laughed about that and chatted a little bit about yourselves. You exchanged social media profiles and while you mentioned to him that you weren’t interested in being involved with anyone at the moment, you assured him that if you changed your mind you would reach out. With that you headed back to the table and rolled your eyes as some of your friends whooped and yelped dramatically after someone else had seen you flirting up a storm inside.

“Man, I was never that bold when I was single!” your friend Paul smirked and you giggled.

“I wasn’t being bold, he was.”

“Is that all it takes now a days?”

“Sometimes.” You giggled and went back to your drink.

You felt a bit more relaxed now and well, Harry was pissed because he did not acknowledge you once for the rest of the night. Did it make you sad? Of course, but he had no right or reason to be upset at this and you figured that was his way of coping with that. After you had a second full drink your buzz started to come in. You were giggling at everything and getting all affectionate with Paul, who was on your left. He was gay, so you knew that he wouldn’t misinterpret it as you scooched closer and leaned against his shoulder. You had a slight moment of weakness and when you glanced at Harry he was already looking at you. You could feel the energy emanating from him. He looked kind of lost and sad. You had the urge to reach for him, but you couldn’t do that here. So instead you just offered him a small smile and his gaze softened a bit and then you looked away.

The rest of the time seemed to fly by and before you knew it you were being dropped off in front of your house.

“Thank you so much for the ride. You are the best!” You praised Goldie with gratitude.

“Not a problem, darling!”

“Do you need water or to have a wee or anything?” You asked.

“I should be alright!” She giggled, “Thank you, though. We’ll see each other for Massimo’s birthday in a few, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” You smiled and waved goodbye as she drove off. You then keyed your way inside and immediately shrugged your jacket off, the alcohol in your system had made you feel a bit warm. You were just about to get your shoes off when there were a few knocks on the door and you grinned.

“I knew she’d have to pee.” You said to yourself lowly and when you opened up the door you swore any drunken feeling evaporated from your system as his eyes met yours. “Harry, I don’t think that-”

You were cut off by his lips colliding with yours as he pushed you inside. You easily melted into it and sucked his plump bottom lip between your own lips. He groaned as his hands slide down to your backside, kneading it in his big warm hands. He started turning you around until your back collided with the door and he started to kiss down your neck. You were obsessed with the way his lips felt and with the way his scent enveloped you. You moaned as he you felt him start to suck at the base of your throat.

“N-no marks remember?” You panted as you scratched the back of his head gently.

“Mmm…don’t think anyone’ll be suspicious after you were flirting with that guy at the bar.” He mumbled before picking up where he left off. Your mouth parted as you moaned in slight pain at how hard he was sucking at you.

“Tsss…it hurts!” You winced.

“Good.” He mumbled before kissing over the mark. You loved when he did things to claim you, because outside of this you weren’t his to claim. He pecked your lips quickly as he pressed his forehead against yours, “You think about that next time before ghosting me for two months.” He lowly and you shook your head.

“It was for your own good.” You reminded.

“I think I can decide what’s good for me and what’s not.” He mumbled lowly as one of his hands came up and angled your face up towards his. The deep, magenta glow from the little sunset lamp in your entryway was making this moment feel like a drug-induced hallucination. Breathing his scent and air made you feel intoxicated. You were putty in his hands. “I’ve missed you so much, angel.” He said lowly. That’s when you realized that his other hand had slithered up your thigh, he was just an inch away from touching you where you needed him most.

“H, no. We shouldn’t.” You reasoned, but did absolutely nothing to push him away or stop his hand from slithering further up your thigh. You wanted him to keep going, but you shouldn’t.

“Tell me to stop then.” He responded huskily and you inhaled sharply as his fingers rubbed over your clothed slit. Your hand darted down and wrapped around his wrist and his eyes immediately softened, “Is that a stop?” He asked with slight concern and you shook your head.

“Harder.” You requested. He groaned and added more pressure, his finger dipping into your crease and colliding with your clit. He felt as the tension just melted off of your body and the soft moan that slipped past your lips made him grin.

“Is that good, angel?” He asked and you nodded and whimpered as he went a bit faster. “You’ve been wet for a while, hmmm?”

“Yes.” You smiled, “Since I saw you.” You confessed and he giggled.

“Yeah?” He asked, fully amused at learning this.

“Yeah.” You nodded, still smiling cheek to cheek.

“For real?” He asked lowly, more vulnerably. His eyes bore into yours and you nodded again, not breaking eye contact with him. “That’s fucking hot.” He groaned before kissing your sloppily.

It was all tongues and teeth colliding, there was just so much urgency that it didn’t even matter if you were kissing at the same pace, you just wanted to be against him. One of your hands reached down to feel the sizable bulge in his pants. You were obsessed with how big his dick got. He stretched you out so good, you got wetter in anticipation. He groaned in satisfaction as you rubbed over him with more pressure, really letting the heel of your palm press against the head of his cock.

“Harry?”

“Yes, angel?”

“Please fuck me.” You panted against his lips and he nodded.

“Yeah, baby. Want me to fuck you? I’ll fuck you.” He muttered against your lips before pulling you off towards your bedroom.

“Wait, wait! My shoes! Let me get ‘em off!” You giggled and he groaned and knelt down. You bit your lip and smiled down at him as you placed your foot on his thigh. He kissed your knee as his fingers undid the straps of your high heel.

“Next one.” He hummed and you switched legs. “There you are, now lets get to it.” He smiled and you pulled him to your bedroom swiftly.

As soon as you got in you reached across your body to pull down your dress’ zipper. About halfway down, Harry’s hands slid the straps down your shoulders and then slid under your arms to grab your breasts. He squeezed them as his lips traveled up your neck.

“Fuck, I missed these.” He hummed and you bit your lip and whined as he gently pinched your nipples down between his thumbs and index fingers. He pressed a bit harder until you gasped and he eased up. “Again?” He asked and you nodded.

“Please, again.” You confirmed.

This was one of the reasons Harry loved sleeping with you. Little things like this, where he was a bit more aggressive and pushed the limits with you. You leaned into it, you loved the bite of pain. You loved feeling pushed to the edge and giving him complete free reign to do with you as he pleased, you’d set some boundaries before but there were very few. And well, he enjoyed taking you there. It’s what he was missing, he figured it out after not having you for two months.

Things weren’t bad in his relationship but they were rather tame. He loved having slow, meaningful sex but he also loved having horny, kinky, and primal sex where he could fulfill his urges however he pleased. That wasn’t really the kind of person his partner was, to be fair she had tried but she just couldn’t get into it. And well, knowing you were of that persuasion, it just became easiest to seek you out for it. But he didn’t expect to get whipped after a couple times. It was bad, he had been struggling without you. And thank whatever higher power there was that your paths coincided tonight because he really just needed to see you. Even if nothing had come of it, at least he got to be around you and feel excited again. That very spark of excitement being relit was the thing that persuaded him to show up at your door and he was so glad he had.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He hummed as he glanced down at your body. “So fucking perfect. And so good for me.” He goaded you on. You loved how he spoke to you when you fucked, “Always so fucking good. Aren’t you, angel?”

“Yes, daddy.” You whined and he groaned. Just hearing you call him that again had clouded his judgement completely and the rational part of himself evaporated into thin air.

In moments Harry was urging you to get into bed while he quickly undressed himself. You were nestling yourself into the pillows when he climbed on. You parted your legs to allow him to rest himself over your body and as he settled over you he kissed you deeply. You were aching to feel his cock stretching you open and filling you up with each inch of it that sunk inside of you. You were longing to feel the satisfaction that came with sleeping with him and only him. It was dangerous, like a drug.

Harry kissed your lips once more before pressing himself up, “Gonna get a taste of you first.” He said to you and you bit your lip in excitement.

You stayed perfectly still as Harry kissed down your chest and stomach, then skipped down to your thighs and nipped and kissed and sucked his way up until he was pressing kisses over your labia. He loved feeling the wetness seeping out from between your lips, he loved how wet and horny you got for him. So without any further delays he nuzzled in and lapped at your achey little hole, dipping his tongue in until you were grinding into his face and gasping as his nose kept nudging against your clit. He was trying not to, but he was smiling so big, it was getting hard to keep doing what he was doing. But he was absolutely blissed out over getting to savor you once again.

“Oh fuck…” you mewled, “My clit! Suck my clit!” You whined and he groaned as he glided his mouth further up to get to your clit. His mustache pricked at your hypersensitive skin and it made you weak in the knees. You loved the contrast of his smooth lips and tongue in comparison to the roughness of his facial hair scratching over your skin. Once he felt the reached the raised little bump, Harry parted his lips to suck and flick his tongue at the sensitive little bundle until you started to writhe your hips.

Your moans became more consistent and then he pressed his middle finger into you. You gasped as he hooked it up, right into your g-spot. Your abs immediately started to tense as he played your body with an absolutely lethal level of lust-driven determination. He wanted to make you come. The final nail in the coffin was when he plunged a second finger in. The soft smacks of his fingers thrusting in and out of you were getting louder the closer you got to your orgasm. His moans of enjoyment and your praises of gratitude to him joined the chorus of things pushing you right to the edge. And just like that you were coming undone around his fingers.

“Fuck, that’s it, angel.” He chuckled against you, kissing at your clit lightly until he had worked you through it all the way.

Harry kissed up your body with lust and what felt like relief. And when he was back up at your face he went in for a sultry kiss, tongue first. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue and felt his hands rub up and down your inner thighs while his heavy erection bobbed up and down in the small space between your bodies. You just wanted him so badly, you raised your hips up to get his tip against your folds and hopefully your clit. He adjusted a bit until his tip kissed your clit as you’d been hoping. You whimpered and he bit his lip at the soft whimpers escaping from your throat as his cock kept bumping into your clit at the perfect pace. He was trying to not make too much of it because if he thought about it too much he’d come like this with ease. And while it was very tempting to do so if only to see your pussy glazed over with his cum, he needed to feel you. He wanted to be buried deep in the person he’d been missing and thinking about all this time when he finally came.

“Please, H. Put it in!” You begged and he groaned as he angled himself down and to your entrance. He gently nudged against it, he’d have to assist a bit to push it inside.

“You’re still on the pill?” He asked as he glanced up at you and your expression fell a bit as your eyes met.

“No, I stopped it last month.” And then you cocked your head towards the adjoining bathroom, “I have condoms somewhere in there though.” You offered because he had always insisted on protection. But this time he bit his lip pensively.

“Ca-can I…pull out?” He asked and your eyes widened and dazzled a bit upon hearing his request. You’d never gone bare before, it was one of the things you’d agreed on every time you’d meet up. Of course, for your own sexual health, but largely because he was still sleeping with a long term partner who wasn’t aware that he had another sexual partner. Truly, the least you two could do was use condoms.

“Ummm, a-are you sure?” You asked him.

“Yeah angel, I’m absolutely sure.” You looked a bit skeptical, “M’sure.” He insisted with a nod, “I need t’feel you.” He admitted lowly as his eyes glanced up to yours. He looked uncertain of having shared that with you but you could also see the urgency in them. Your lips twitched up in a small smile.

“Okay.” You agreed and he smiled down at you as he started to guide himself down to your entrance.

When his tip finally met with your entrance and he started to press in you sighed in relief. You had slept with someone else shortly after the last time with Harry, so it had been a while for you and you were aching to feel the stretch as your body adjusted and accommodated to his size.

“Ready?” He asked and you nodded eagerly.

“I’m so ready.” You responded, nearly breathless and with that he surged forward with enough force to sink inside, “Oh fuuuuck…” You moaned, eyes squeezing shut the second your muscles relaxed enough to allow him to sink in about halfway.

Harry moaned in relief as well, but his eyes were fixed on the place where your bodies were connected. He loved to see you stretched out around him, he marveled at the way he fit inside of you. Without a warning he reared back and you whined. He smirked smugly and glanced up at you before thrusting back into you. You moaned as your gazes locked once again.

“Can you take it all with the next one?” He asked and you nodded once, “You sure?”

“Yeah, m’sure. Please, H.” You whined softly. With that he pulled back again and thrust inside with a bit more strength and then he actually shifted his hips down causing your legs to fall open even more as you opened right up for him. “Oh shit!” You gasped in surprise when his cock went as deep as it could. It felt like he was in your stomach.

“Relax f’me, angel.” He encouraged you and when you did and he ground into you, his tip just barely grazed your cervix. The small, but dull ache told you that’s where he was. “Can I move?”

“Please move.” You giggled breathlessly and he smiled before pulling out and gliding back in with ease. You were even more wet now with his thrusts. Your body was practically singing for him and the way it felt to be connecting with him this way after all of this time.

Your hands ran up and down the hot and smooth skin of his back and arms. You didn’t know how much you missed the feeling of the bulging muscles in his back and arms working hard to make you feel good. He was so strong, it made you even hornier as you brought a hand over his chest to feel his bulging pectorals. He smiled and knelt up, spreading your legs even more as he watched with lustful eyes as his cock glided in and out of you with ease.

“Fuck, you take it so well.” He grunted through his thrusts before grabbing your left breast in his hand. He groped and squeezed at it and your nipple, causing your back to arch up with his tugs as you gasped and moaned. “Too much?” He asked when you winced and you shook your head.

“It’s good! It’s so fucking good!” You mewled.

Harry was obsessed with how perfect you looked beneath him. Gorgeous face, tits bouncing up and down with the force of his thrusts. Your warm and inviting little hole taking his cock as well as he remembered. For a while there at Amante’s he was worried that you’d leave with that handsome guy who was entertaining you at the bar and boy, did his blood boil. He wasn’t going to act on his need for you until he saw that. At the very least, the man had gotten your socials and he’d be a fool to not shoot his shot with you. But that’s why he ended up at your doorstep, he wanted to be fresh on your mind if you decided to try your luck with someone else. He knew it was messy and even toxic of him to do this, but he wanted you to compare. He wanted you to obsess and lose sleep over him the way he did over you.

“Damn, look at you.” He sighed with a slight smirk, “You were being so good, weren’t you? Keeping your promise and staying away, but look at you now.” He pointed out, “All it took was seeing me once for you to spread your legs for me.” He said smugly and you moaned, “You’re right back where you started, angel. My needy, cock-hungry, little slut.” He teased and degraded you just how you loved, it was pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

Your walls tightened up around him, squeezing him tight. You enjoyed this. This was the side of him that he saved for you. The side of him that his girlfriend didn’t like and couldn’t handle. You loved how he mocked you and made you feel so weak and fickle. You’d spent most of your life being strong, being the rock, it was good to be able to not be that person. To give in to your recklessness and your humanity in a safe space with a person who not only cared for you, but fucked you so good you could detach from reality and just enjoy being taken care of.

“Fuck, I’m so close!” You gasped when he ground deep into you while rubbing over your clit.

The pleasure started to expand from deep in your core and to the rest of your body. Your walls were fluttering around his cock erratically, without your influence. His deep moans in response had your skin covered in goosebumps. And as the feeling made it down your legs, you writhed beneath him, whining and whimpering as you got closer and closer. Your brain was starting to shut off and your eyes to glaze over as you succumbed to the pleasure possessing your body. When your ears started to ring you knew you were about to come. You were smiling in satisfaction as the moans flowed from your mouth, limbs feeling like jell-o.

“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna come!” You gasped, “Please, let me come!” You asked for permission. You always had to ask the first time.

“Go on, angel. Give it t’me, come for me.” He granted you the permission and immediately your body went tense.

Your eyes rolled back and your jaw went slack as all of those wonderful, tingling feelings rippled from your core and out to the rest of your body. It felt like your veins were pumping fire through you. You were desperately grinding up to meet his own thrusts, not able to get enough of him even now as you creamed all over his cock. Harry leaned down to hover over you again, breathing in your exhales, letting his own pleasure reach its own pinnacle. He had every intention of pulling out, but seeing you there beneath him so fucking perfect and fucked out because of him, plus the underlying jealously he was still feeling that led him to your bed, he just couldn’t stop. His thrusts grew erratic and his hands found yours, he pressed them into the mattress as he interlocked your fingers. The look in his eyes tipped you off that his resolve was breaking.

“H-Harry, pull out!” You stammered out the reminder as his brows furrowed and he shook his head. His thrusts slowed but he fucked into your harder until he sunk into you as deep as he could. “Oh fuck!” You whined.

“Fuuuuck…” he moaned deeply as his eyes squeezed shut and then pressed his forehead into yours as he ignored your reminder and started to come inside of you. He needed to and in that moment had no interest in sticking to his own rule.

You could feel the dramatic pulses and twitches of his cock as your snug, warm walls milked the cum out of him. Just feeling it filling you up like this was working you up all over again. Harry groaned and moaned through his orgasm, enjoying it for as long as he could. He had no idea if you’d be angry with him when he took your face in again, but he was glad he did it. He needed to do it. He could feel you trying to free up your hands, so he let them go. He was mentally preparing to feel you pushing him off of you in a completely appropriate fit of rage. But instead you just ran your fingers up the back of his neck and gently scratched at the back of his head. You smiled a bit as you felt his body relax and melt against yours before you giggled.

“You’re reckless and stupid for that.” You chastised him before kissing the side of his face and he just smiled.

“I’ll make sure to get a pill to you in the morning.” He mumbled, “Sorry, I just…something came over me.” He muttered.

“It’s alright.” You assured him, “I like it.” You admitted timidly and he smiled.

“Yeah? Sure?”

“Yes.” You reiterated and he smiled.

You just lay in silence for a little bit, recouping from the intense sex you’d just had. You were enjoying his warmth and the weight of him over you as much as possible before he made his swift exit. But his breaths were getting more and more shallow and he was melting against you further and further.

Suddenly he pushed up a bit until his eyes were meeting yours, “I’m sorry for doing that without asking. I should’ve asked.” He said softly, suddenly feeling really bad and guilty for coming inside of you like that. He had never pushed the limit like that before and was worried that you were just downplaying it.

“Yes, you should’ve but I’m not upset that you didn’t. I ummm…I like that quite a bit.” You admitted bashfully, “Though, I’m…surprised you went through with it, but definitely not upset at you for it.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” You confirmed.

“Can I stay?” He asked after a moment of silence and you bit your lip, feeling so hesitant to allow it.

“Why?” You asked.

“I’m fucking tired.” He said and you smiled, “But mostly because…I don’t want to be in the house alone for another night.” He admitted. You gave it a thought for a moment before agreeing.

“Just this once.” You decided and he thanked you with a gentle kiss to your lips before warning you that he was going to pull out.

You two got cleaned up and then back into bed. You had gotten in first and had turned on your side, facing away from him to give him both, space and privacy. Moments later you felt the bed dip and the last thing you expected was for Harry to continue scooting in until his front was flush with your back. But when he tried to drape his arm over your midsection you sat up.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he sat up as well and you switched on the beside lamp and turned to him.

“What are you doing?” You asked him.

“Nothing, just getting comfortable to sleep.”

“Why do you think I moved all the way over here? To give you space.” You said with a shake of your head.

“Oh, you’re not a cuddler?” He asked.

“Oh no, I can be but we don’t do this kind of thing.” You explained.

“Well what if I want to?” He asked.

“Then maybe you should go sleep in your own house.” You said and he sighed, “It’s not that I don’t want to but…I like you Harry and I don’t want to start to not like you.” You explained and he pouted.

“How do you mean?”

“If we…blur more lines than we already have then things can only get more complicated between us and end badly. I care about you too much to let that happen. It’s why I blocked you and why I stayed away from you this whole time.” You explained.

“You’re right.” He nodded, “I shouldn’t have shown up like this tonight. It was hard, being away from you but I was doing it.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, “So, if you want to stay here tonight, then we stay on our own sides of the bed. And this is the only time it can happen.”

“Okay.” He agreed with ease and you smiled.

“Good.” You concluded and turned to switch off the light while Harry shuffled back over to make more space. Once again, the two of you were shrouded in the dark with more space between the two of you.

“Is this also the last time we sleep together?” He asked into the darkness.

“I think so.” You said with a bit of uncertainty.

And well, Harry was glad you were feeling hesitant about it, you two were quite great together. He could just end his relationship, but he didn’t feel like “the sex could be better” was really a good enough reason. Apart from things being a little bit slow in that department he would say that his relationship was good. He was happy. There was good give and take from both of them. He could see this panning out for the long haul if he really prioritized the relationship. He didn’t feel quite ready to be making those moves though. Maybe that’s why he was still clinging to you. You sparked up a part of him that made his life feel unpredictable and exciting. You were more open and freewheeling. You were just fun, whereas his girlfriend was exactly as she seemed, a calm and sweet spirit. It certainly paired well with the side of him that liked to slow down, the side of him that he wanted to be in tune with after a large world tour. That’s why he’d settled in so easily.

But you…you were something else. Even though he tended to be a little more on the quiet side, when you were around you made him feel just as included as the person who was the extrovert of the group. You connected with the cheeky and mischievous side of him. You made him laugh and feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You were like that first taste of coffee in the morning. The very same one that gave you the feeling that were awake now and made you feel ready to face whatever came at you that day. You were incredibly unforgettable. Since the first time he’d met you, you’d constantly come up in his thoughts. The fact that he was friends with your uncle might’ve aided with that, but only by tiniest bit. The feeling that swirled in his gut and chest the very first time he locked eyes with you last summer, that’s what kept him coming back. Because even to this day, whenever he had the privilege of being in your presence, he’d feel the exact same thing. It’s like when you looked at him everything stopped. There was goodness, authenticity, and mischief in your gaze. He loved to be on the receiving end of your undivided attention. Even now, as he just laid here silently, ruminating and obsessing over all of this, he could feel that you were looking in his direction now and after a few second he felt you turn away.

You turned your head forward again and just stared up at the ceiling and sighed. “Are you upset?” You asked him softly.

“Yes and no.” he responded. You bit your lip as your fingers twitched a bit as you fought from reaching out towards his hand. But after a few seconds you just slid your hand over. When Harry felt your fingers grazing his hand he turned it palm up and let you slide your fingers into the gaps between his.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, angel.” He whispered back. You two fell silent for a bit before you spoke up again.

“You know, maybe it’s a good thing I’m only your side piece. If I had you to myself I’m afraid we’d never do anything productive again.” You pondered aloud and he snorted out a laugh, causing you to giggle.

“Fucking like bunnies is actually very productive.” He added and you sputtered out a laugh.

“We wouldn’t just fuck! We’d share other hobbies.” You reminded.

“Fellatio and cunnilingus.” He mumbled before you both started sniggering again.

“I was going to say anal play but that too I guess.” You muttered and he chuckled and squeezed your hand a bit.

“Cheeky girl.” He mumbled through his laugh.

You were fighting with all your might not to just roll over and onto him and kiss him. You liked him so fucking much, but this was wrong. You weren’t that kind of girl and he wasn’t that kind of guy. It was crazy how with the right person at your side you could and would do just about anything. You laid there thinking about it all for a few seconds and very quickly concluded that maybe one more time couldn’t hurt.

In just a few moments you were straddling Harry’s lap and leaning down to kiss him. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into him. You sighed in relief as your lips collided. Your hand was on his jaw, holding him close as you smooched his lips wetly a couple of times before he drew out his tongue and laved over your bottom lip. Your mouths soon started smacking together softly as you French kissed passionately. You could feel his boner growing beneath you and you couldn’t help yourself as you ground down onto him. His hands came down to your ass and squeezed at it, pulling you down onto him a bit harder. You moaned as his rock hard cock rubbed into your clit and you sped up your pace.

“Fuck me.” Harry mumbled his request as he gently spanked your bottom.

“Yeah?” You panted as you slowed down.

“Yeah, get my dick out.” He instructed. You slid down his thigh and tugged his briefs down carefully, allowing his cock to spring right up. He sighed in relief and you suddenly had a need to feel his weight on your tongue. You slid the rest of the way down, parting his legs as you got lower and lower until your mouth was over his cock. You guided him into your mouth, immediately sucking at his tip fervently as he moaned and rubbed over your cheek.

“Take more, angel. Take more.” He urged you. You did so without hesitation, relaxing your jaw and throat as you sunk further down. He was quite the mouthful, so there was no way of doing this neatly. It was sloppy and needy and you were enjoying it as much as he was “Fuck, that’s good, baby.” He groaned, brows creased in pleasure as you started to fondle his balls as well. His abs were starting to tense and his breathing to grow shallow. “Angel, get on me. Please, m’so fucking close.” He begged and you slowly pulled off of him.

You glanced up at him and smiled as you moved back up and knelt over him. You moved your panties to the side and he quickly reached for his cock and held it up for you. You shifted your hips a bit when you felt him up against your labia and in moments you were sinking down onto him slowly. You both moaned in relief before you went a bit further and stopped. You were getting used to his girth before sliding down a little bit more, until finally you were seated on him fully.

“Fuck, it’s so big…” you winced as you bounced over his cock.

“I know, baby, but you take it so well. Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good.” He groaned.

One of his big hands was holding your hips, guiding you up and down, helping you through the motions. His other hand was rubbing your clit in perfectly timed little circles. With his cock prodding right into your sweet spot and his fingers rubbing over your clit, you were quickly reaching your climax. Your skin was covered in goosebumps as you took everything in. The sensations of fucking him, of his hands on your body. The sounds of your ass smacking into his thighs with every bounce over him and your soft grunts and his moans all got you closer and closer to your orgasm. The coil of pleasure that seemed to be winding up inside of you was about to spring free. You were starting to tingle all over, your moans were increasing in pitch the closer and closer you got.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck, I’m coming!” You gasped and he groaned as he felt your walls pulsing erratically around his cock. You started to lose your rhythm as you came all over him.

“Fuck! Fuck, you’re gonna make me come!” He warned as he started to thrust up into you hard to get himself to his orgasm and you all the way through yours. He was hammering into your g-spot and you were once again being pushed to the edge. You moaned his name in gratitude and praise as he fucked you through another orgasm. Harry held your hip with one hand while the other grabbed around your neck gently and tugged you down until you were moaning into his mouth. “Good girl.” He panted and kissed you quickly, “M’gonna come in you.” He panted and you groaned as he held you down hard, “Shit, angel? Know you want me to fuck another load into your perfect, little pussy.” He panted and you nodded, “Ask for it, then.” He said and you whined but parted your lips to speak anyway.

“Please come inside me, daddy! Please!” You implored, “I need t’feel you filling me up, H. Please!”

How could he resist that? He grunted deeply through a handful of thrusts before gabbing your hips hard and holding you down onto his lap as he thrusted up as deep as he could and ground up into your pelvis. You were trembling over him, legs feeling like jell-o as he shot his load deep into you. You could feel the warmth of it filling you up and it was making your brain start to fog. You leaned down and kissed him gently again. His grip on your hips started to loosen up and soon his hands were gently sliding up to your waist and wrapping around you, pulling you down over him as you continued kissing hungrily as you came down from your orgasms. You were both struggling to breathe but neither of you wanted to pull away. Pulling away only meant that this would end and neither of you was quite ready for it to be over. You stayed like that, kissing and cock warming until he completely softened up and started to slip from you.

“Harry, Harry!” You giggled against his lips, “I need to clean up before I get your cum all over my sheets.” You warned and he groaned and kissed you once more.

“Alright, go on.” He said lowly, voice deep and gravely due to how late it was. You tightened up as you knelt up and scurried to the bathroom. You sat on the toilet and let his cum leak out of you before letting yourself pee. You were just sliding your panties back on when Harry peaked in. “May I?”

“Yeah.” You nodded and moved to wash your hands.

“M’gonna steal a few wipes.” He said and you nodded.

“Yeah, whatever you need.” You assured and hurried out to just check you hadn’t stained the bed. Thankfully you hadn’t and just as you were about to turn out the lights Harry emerged from the bathroom. He hurried back and settled in and then you turned off the lights. You both got comfortable again, only this time you were resting shoulder to shoulder, not minding the proximity. You fell quiet for a bit until Harry cleared his throat.

“Are you going to go out with that guy from Amante?” He asked and you sighed.

“I think so…it’d be a good distraction.” You mumbled tiredly.

“Yeah, maybe.” He responded. “If it pans out, maybe we can all go on a double date.” He joked and you snorted and reached over to smack his tummy gently as he chuckled.

“That’d be so fucked up.” You chuckled.

“I know it might be weird, but can we still be friends?” He asked,

“We’re always friends.”

“Then don’t block me this time.” He said and you smiled.

“Then don’t call me when you’re bored and horny.” You quipped back and he chuckled.

“Deal.” He hummed and you nudged your shoulder into his playfully and he nudged you back. You guys talked about random things until you dozed off side by side.

When you woke up the next morning, already later in the morning, you were alone but Harry had left a morning after pill on your bedside table with a glass of water, just as he’d promised.

….One Month Later….

It’d been a while since you’d crossed paths with Harry. He’d been out of the country doing his things, visiting his girlfriend, and friends in other places…really just carrying on as normal. But him being out of the country provided you the opportunity to start to go out with others as you intended. Not that you couldn’t do those things with him in the country, but knowing that he was off and with his girlfriend gallivanting around the globe made the fact clear that whatever you two had was definitely over.

You’d gone out with Eric, the guy you met at the bar at Amante’s, twice. And while he was fun to talk to, it just wasn’t that strong of a romantic connection. He was nice and smart and very respectful, but he was looking for something that would turn serious quickly. You learned he had two kids and was divorced due to irreconcilable differences and he hoped that the person he dated could also bond with his children. You weren’t ready to have anything to do with children, especially in the capacity of a caregiver, and because of that things didn’t pan out.

You were doing well enough for anyone in your position though. You sort of threw yourself into your work for a bit, which had paid off for you since you’d been very busy. You were relieved that things seemed to be taking off for Harry, it made you feel like maybe he was working everything out with his girlfriend. Or perhaps he was just accepting the fact that if he wanted a future with her that he’d have to compromise on some things. And that’s where you differed from him.

You knew what you brought to the table and you also knew what you wanted. You didn’t think you were unreasonable in what you wanted from a partner, but your slim pickings made you think otherwise at times. You weren’t afraid of being alone, you had been alone for most of your life, save for a couple unsuccessful romantic relationships. Your companionship needs were mostly met through the close relationships you had with your friends. And when you had other physical needs that you couldn’t meet yourself, well you hooked up. It worked for you, you were still happy and quite frankly weren’t in a rush, you just wanted to enjoy your life and your youth. And if a like-minded partner came along, then great! But that didn’t mean that other people believed that you were happy with your current life path. So, when you had family things to attend you always sought out a date.

“If anyone asks you how long we’ve been together say we met a couple months ago.” You instructed as you came to a stop behind the small queue of cars outside of your uncle Rob’s home.

“Got it.” Ian, your date for the night, chuckled.

“Also, there might be a lot of famous people here so just try and be as collected as possible. Most of them are super fucking nice, but they just get weird if you start talking about their work.” You added and he nodded.

“Got it.” He confirmed. Soon enough you were getting out of the car and leaving it with the valet and you guided Ian to the side gate where everyone was entering.

It was your aunt’s birthday and she was having a big party. There wasn’t much decor apart from flowers and balloons but there were tables placed throughout the back lawn where everyone was eating from the couple of food trucks that were hired to cater. There was also a live band and the in-ground pool had been covered and turned into a dance floor. You immediately recognized a couple of people as you made it inside and greeted them with warmth and affection before introducing Ian. Of course he was bombarded with questions and you had told him before to just make things up and you’d play along. Based on what he was saying now, you two had met when you both rushed into a cab on a rainy night in the spring. He was animatedly telling the story and his audience of two were extremely captivated by his story, looking at him with adoration at his romantic tale.

You were giggling quietly, surveying the tables and queue formed at the bar to scope out your parents when suddenly your eyes locked on Harry’s. He smiled slightly at you and you returned his friendly gesture. It wasn’t hard to miss the girlfriend he had his arm draped over. You watched in amusement as clearly, the person they were talking to had directed a question at him, but he was too busy staring at you. You saw her slightly turn back to him and grab his attention. He was just a little flustered and shook it off with a little laugh as he turned back to the conversation. You smirked and right before you turned your attention back to Ian, she turned in your direction and almost immediately locked gazes with you. You offered a smile and while she returned a rather stiff smile, you didn’t miss the way she quickly eyed you up and down before turning her attention back to the other guest.

*************

Obviously, a lot of people wanted a moment of his time at this party, so it had been nearly half an hour before he had been able to go up and grab some food at the Indian food truck. He was just waiting off to the side, discretely scanning the crowd, hoping to spot you again, when his girlfriend grabbed his attention.

“H?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Who was that girl from before?”

“What girl?” He asked with a puzzled look on his face.

Of course, he was playing dumb, trying to make light of it to pull away any suspicion or probing. He hadn’t spoken to you in months! Whatever sporadic flings you had in the past had stayed there. However, seeing you again had him feeling on his toes. He had hoped you’d be here tonight, if only just to get a look at you. Seeing you on social media was fine, but nothing beat having you there in the flesh. Getting to see what you wore, how you’d done your hair and make up, getting to hear your voice, and then letting all those things influence his wild and incredibly vivid imagination was something he had been looking forward to.

“The one that distracted you when we were talking to Ralph.” She reminded.

“Oh, her?” He chuckled, “That’s Rob’s niece, we’re friends. I’m sure you’ve met her before.”

“I don’t think so…I’ve seen her around though.”

“You didn’t meet her at the Reggio show, last year?”

“Nope, was never introduced.”

“Oh well, if we spot her again we can say hello.” He smiled and she nodded before biting on her lip for a moment as she glanced around, trying to find you in the crowd again.

Finally, she spotted you and just stared for a little bit. She saw how you seemed to know everyone and how you just seemed to light up the conversations of the people you were engaging with. Even the man on your arm was captivated. She was a little more on the shy side, especially since she didn’t know a lot of people here. And she couldn’t help but feel a little put off the more she observed you from afar. It seemed that you were completely over the top, possibly an ass-kisser. Just another one of those opportunistic nepo industry plants, greasing the wheels at any opportunity you’d get and this was the perfect place to do that. She hoped that your paths wouldn’t cross tonight, she wasn’t in the mood to feign interest in someone who could possibly be using Harry to get her foot in the door.

************

The night had been unexpectedly fun for you, Ian was a hoot. And although you’d been planning on just dropping him off at home at the end of the night, the way he was handling all of these people had you seriously considering spending the night with him. You’d run into a lot of people you hadn’t seen in a long while, caught up with your parents and other family members, and introduced them to Ian. You’d danced, shared some food with him, and on top of that, you had been actively avoiding a run in with Harry and his girlfriend like it was your life’s mission. You hadn’t run into him yet, so you drank a little more, let loose, and right as you settled into that lovely, carefree, and vulnerable place in the bosom of your buzz you spotted him coming through the crowd. Once again your eyes locked and his smile brightened.

“Y/N!” He called out to you and you smiled and raised your hand from around Ian's shoulder to wave at him. You saw him pulling his girlfriend along behind him as he approached.

“Harry! Hi!” You greeted with excitement and started to stand. Now that you had a good dosage of alcohol in your system you were less nervous about seeing him. But as the pair got closer you noticed a slight jerk of his arm and realized that he was trying release his hand from hers but she wasn’t letting him go. But after another tug he was free and hurrying ahead and then his body collided with yours in a tight hug.

“It’s good to see you.” He hummed as he swayed your bodies a little bit for a few seconds. Your hand rubbed at his back, right between his shoulder blades a couple of times before you started to pull back. He wasn’t letting go though.

“H, let go.” You whispered discretely and he immediately loosened his grip before he twirled around to grab his girlfriend’s hand again and you turned to see Ian already standing.

“Love, this is my friend, Y/N.” Harry introduced you to her as soon as you turned around again.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” You greeted her with a smile and extended hand. She returned the pleasantry and you proceeded to introduce Ian, “This Ian my date.” You shared with them and Harry was quick to reach his hand out and greet him. When Joe then turned his attention to Harry’s girlfriend, you saw Harry size him up a bit and you smiled.

“-do you guys want to sit?” Is what you heard Ian ask and Harry immediately accepted and you saw his girlfriend’s face fall a bit before she put on a smile and sat as Harry pulled a chair out for her.

It was all small talk at first, but his girlfriend soon saw that you weren’t being fake. Even as you talked about the most mundane things, you were positive and funny and engaging. It genuinely got under her skin that she was wrong about you, but you were just fun and good at being outgoing. It kind of made her blood boil because you weren’t even dressed all flashy to get attention, it just came to you from everyone, including Harry. She was more than relieved though when Harry asked how it was that you and Ian met. Ian turned to you and you just smiled and nodded, allowing him to take over and share that. She just didn’t want to hear your voice anymore, it was pissing her off.

So when Ian went off on his story-telling tangent about how you’d met at a cat adoption fair and were fighting for the same one, she just focused on that. Meanwhile, Harry stole a quick glance at you because he knew it was absolute bullshit. You really disliked cats, something to do with there only being room for one sassy ass-hole in your household.

“-and in the end I got the cat and the girl so…win, win.” He smirked at you as he finished his story and you giggled.

“Lucky you.” You hummed with adoration in your gaze.

Despite all of that bullshit, the way you were looking into Ians eyes was as real as it got. Harry couldn’t help but feel his insides knotting up with jealously as he felt the tension between the two of you and saw that there was sufficient attraction there. His girlfriend didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched for a few seconds before he reached for his drink.

“So what did you say you did for work?” His girlfriend asked you.

“Oh, I dabble in several things in the music industry, just kind of float about.” You gave her the short answer. It was the truth, you did a lot of things! You were a studio musician, you engineered, you composed, you assisted production and when you went off on that in specifics you found that you had to explain a lot and you were a little too buzzed for that right now so you kept it very surface level.

“Mmm…I’m sure your uncle can help you get on your feet and connect with the right people to develop your skills if you’re still, you know trying to figure out what you're good at or find something more…established.” She said with a polite smile, but her tone and the look in her eyes made you read between the lines. You were about to respond and just agree with the evidently irritated woman before you when Harry turned to her.

“Actually, Y/N is a very accomplished musician by her own right.” Harry cut in and when she turned to him you just shook your head, asking him not to engage or jump in to try and defend you. You were used to these kinds of comments by now, but he ignored your cue. “She plays like five different instruments and often plays in and edits for film scores. Weren’t you the second chair cellist in the philharmonic orchestra right out of college?” He asked and you just smiled politely.

“That was a long time ago.” You added, trying to make him get the hint to stop. “She’s right though, I’ve been more interested in the composition and production side of things lately, so my uncle has introduced me to a few colleagues to help me learn the more practical side of that. Having a degree in it can only get you so far.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t like give you jobs just because you're his niece.” Harry said, cutting straight to the point of what his girlfriend had been suggesting.

“Well, no, I certainly need to earn those by my own merits.” You chuckled, “But I mean, like anything in the entertainment industry, it’s nearly impossible to get into without some sort of internal connections.” You confirmed what she'd alluded to with a smile.

“Or without having the potential to be an absolute legend.” Ian added as he gestured towards Harry, who chuckled and glanced down at his hands on the table with a modest shake of his head.

“Exactly. Whatever you have is so special. It’s brilliant that you’re modest about it, because truly some people aren’t.” You added, “But I mean, we all know you’re one in a million, H.” You chuckled and he glanced up at you.

“Well, thank you for thinking that.” He said bashfully and you smiled.

“Of course.” You smiled.

After that, things got a little awkward with his girlfriend. So you tried to talk about her and what she had going on but she seemed to be quite shut down and the topic shifted to Ian and what he did. He was a sociology professor at the University of West London, so he had a lot to say if you guys kept talking about him. However, it wasn’t hard to miss that she was clearly upset at Harry. She even seemed annoyed when he draped his jacket over her shoulders as a cool breeze started to blow around you all. Just as things started to get unbearably weird the music stopped.

“Everyone, if we can gather on the dance floor, we’re going to sing “Happy Birthday” in just a few moments!” Your uncle announced. You were so grateful for this divinely timed interruption.

“Yay! Time for cake!” You said with excitement and shot out of your seat. Harry and his girlfriend stood as well and he watched as Ian chuckled at you and shrugged off his own jacket. He quietly asked if you were cold, “I’m alright, quite warm from the alcohol.” You assured him, so he just draped it over the chair.

You two waited for Harry and his girlfriend before making your way over to the dance floor with everyone else. It started to fill up and before long you all started to sing along to the band playing the “Happy Birthday” tune. You and Harry were standing beside each other and in your state, you were having a hard time ignoring your desire to nestle into his side and inhale his cologne. He looked so fucking good. Yes, Ian was a proper hottie, but Harry was Harry. You were drawn to him and he to you, you were magnetic.

You were starting to realize that it didn’t matter how much time or distance you two let pass by, you were drawn to each other. And when you saw each other again you had to be near him and you loved that it felt like no time had passed at all. Your connection transcended time and distance and that terrified you, because you were starting to realize that if he wanted to string you along as his side piece for the rest of his life, it could very well happen. It didn’t matter that it was wrong to everyone else because it didn’t feel that way to you or to him.

And just as the band played the final note with a colorful flare, your aunt laughed happily and blew out the candles and everyone’s cheering was interrupted by surprised gasps as some fireworks erupted in the sky. You smiled brightly as you looked up at the beautiful colors painting the night sky. And in the midst of your awe at the scene before you, you felt hisHarry's finger grazing your own and the air suddenly left your lungs. You felt your mouth dry up nervously and you swallowed thickly before extending your pinky out to graze against his own. You saw him smile from your peripherals as he locked your fingers together. Such a small gesture had your mind blurring and your body tingling with excitement and relief.

Shortly after the fireworks and some cake, people started to head out. You made sure to take Ian around to say goodbye to your family before they all left. They were all very happy to meet him and made it clear that they hoped to see him again soon. He nodded along but knew better than that. Regardless of reality, he was so sweet and acknowledged their kind wishes. He had really done an amazing job being your date and you were intent on repaying him all of the effort he had put in for you tonight.

“Ready to go?” He asked and you nodded.

“I just need to use the bathroom. Do you?”

“No, I’m good.” He assured you.

“Okay, I’m gonna try and sneak into a bathroom upstairs and then find my aunt to give her, her present. Can you grab the car from the valet? I’ll meet you there.”

“Yeah, of course.” He smiled and you thanked him and then dug the little ticket out of your purse before handing it over.

“Alright, I’ll meet you out there. I won’t be long!” You assured and hurried off.

**************

Harry kept a close eye on you after the crowd dispersed after the fireworks. He was itching to be near you again. Especially since his girlfriend was no longer in a good mood. He wasn’t nearly as preoccupied about that though. He would certainly hear it all tomorrow when she'd let it simmer inside long enough that it just had to come out.

"I need to go to the bathroom before we go." she said.

"Okay, that's fine there's the line." he said nodding towards it, "I need to talk to Rob about something before we go." he fibbed and she hummed and glanced at the remaining guests. She hadn't said anything as she scanned the area, she was looking for you. Luckily for him, he'd seen you head into the house. "Look, s'getting longer." he said, refocusing her attention back on the line and she huffed.

"Damn it."

"Just go. I'll come find you when I'm done." he assured and she walked off. And he rushed through the crowd to get inside before she saw where he went.

**************

You were going to be quick about this since you’d left Ian to get in line for your car. As you washed your hands you gave yourself a quick look over and were pleased that your makeup was still intact and that you were still satisfied with the casual, black dress you’d chosen to wear. You then reached for the hand towel to dry your hands off and as you opened up the door you gasped in fright, not expecting to see Harry standing there in the dark hallway. He wordlessly pushed you and himself back inside before closing the door and looking right into your eyes.

“What’re you doing here?! If she finds out that you’re-”

“I don’t want to think about her right now.” He shook his head, rejecting the topic you were trying to bring up. You were suddenly struggling to breathe as his hands came up to hold your face tenderly, “I’m so happy you’re here.” He whispered, “You look so pretty.”

“You look good too.” You returned the compliment.

“Yeah?” He asked softly and you smiled and nodded, “Didn’t shave because I hoped I’d see you here. Know you like it when I grow out m’facial hair.” He hummed softly and you smiled in endearment.

“Are you just gonna stare or are you planning on kissing me at some point?” You questioned with a smirk and he grinned as he leaned in.

Your kiss was a little unsuccessful at first, given that you were giggling and smiling like fools. But as soon as your teeth dug into his bottom lip he groaned and grabbed your hips before pushing you up against the door. Your lips met with urgency and you kissed ardently as his hips kept your body pinned to the door. One of his hands slid up the back of your dress and smoothed over your bottom. You were wearing a thong because of the sleek look of the dress, but you were glad that it was beneficial for this too. His other hand squeezed over your right breast before he started to fondle it as you held him close by the belt loops. He had just started rutting against your front when your phone started to ring in your purse.

“Just ignore it.” He mumbled.

“Can’t.” You said and he huffed before kissing your chin and then working his way up your jaw and to your ear lobe as you blindly grabbed the phone out of your bag. You saw Ian’s name on the screen and answered it.

“Hello?” You spoke quietly as Harry moved down to your neck.

“Hey, there’s one person ahead of me.” He informed and you held in a whimper as Harry started to suck right where your jaw and neck met.

“O-okay. Just looking for my aunt to give her the card I got her.” You fibbed.

“Okay, if they come before you get here I’ll wait right outside the gate.”

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” You assured and hung up quickly without letting him say another thing. You hissed as Harry sucked a bit harder, doing his best to leave his mark on your skin. “H-how am I gonna explain this? I was trying to get laid tonight.” You mumbled and he chuckled as he pulled away and kissed his way back up to your lips.

“You could still get laid.” He said with a smug grin as he hovered directly over you. His words were practically traced against your lips, it was making you dizzy.

“I think a fresh love bite from another man might be a bit off putting.” You replied with snark and he smirked.

“Then maybe you should get fucked by the person who marked you.” He suggested and you chuckled and sighed, “Please, angel. Just one more time.”

“Go fuck your girlfriend.” You suggested playfully and his smile faded and he shook his head.

“I don’t want her.” He responded as his eyes met yours with sincerity and clarity.

Hearing him say that filled you with a bit of arrogance but more than that, there was relief. Relief that maybe, he was as down bad for you as you were for him. You tiptoed and then grabbed his jaw before leaning in to kiss him deeply before pulling back.

“Find a way to sneak out and come over. I’ll leave a spare key taped to the inside of the little slot for the post.” You said and he bit his lip to try and diminish the size of his smile.

“Okay. I’ll text when I leave mine. Might be late.”

“S’alright. I’ll wait for you.” You assured him as you looked deep into his beautiful, jade eyes.

Something about the way you were saying it told him that you meant that in a way more complex than just plotting for a hook up. His gaze softened and he leaned in and kissed you delicately.

“Will you really?” He asked and you nodded, “Then say it again.” He whispered.

“I’ll wait for you, Harry.” You mumbled against his kiss-swollen lips and he kissed you deeply once more before slipping out of the bathroom quickly.

You sighed and proceeded to lick over your lips. You could still slightly taste his minty lip balm smeared against them. You were smiling at yourself in the mirror, already feeling a little stupid for being so weak when it came to Harry as you shook your head and smirked before rolling your eyes.

“The things I do for love…”

_ _ _ _

>> Read Part 2 >>

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